


Disruption

by LeaderPerri



Category: GOT7
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, M/M, markson
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-19
Updated: 2015-05-07
Packaged: 2018-02-26 06:33:02
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 27,096
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2641655
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LeaderPerri/pseuds/LeaderPerri
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>University was not kind to Mark in the friends department. Until he met Jackson.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I had a lot of fun writing this and I hope to update this really soon! Others will appear in later chapters, and yknow. Other stuff will happen.

"Shit, fuck, I swear I had them--"

Mark flicked his eyes to the seat next to him, where a short but muscular boy sat rifling frantically through his leather backpack. The clock in the small lecture hall read 8:52. Mark was barely awake, even though he'd already drunk his thermos of coffee. Despite his aptitude for Korean, the 9 am class wasn't sitting well with him.

The boy beside him was still muttering to himself, cursing about whatever it was he couldn't find. Mark didn't usually speak to anyone in his classes; he was always too shy unless people approached him first. Which usually, they didn't. But his curiosity got the best of him.

"What are you looking for?" Mark asked the boy, who's hat was now slightly askew on his head, allowing a few strands of dark hair to fall into his face. He couldn't remember the boy's name, even though they'd been taking the same Korean class for almost six weeks. But then again, this was the first time Mark had even said anything to him.

"My notes," the boy replied, finally sighing and laying his head down on the table. Mark fidgeted, glancing at his notebook.

"I have mine," he murmured shyly. "Do you want to borrow them?" The boy's face looked so grateful Mark wasn't sure that any worded thanks could possibly compare.

"Please," he said, looking relieved. "I haven't been able to study this week because of the fencing tournament coming up."

He even bowed his head politely when Mark handed him his notes. "Thank you," he breathed. "It's Mark, right? Or am I mixing your name up with someone else...?"

Mark began to sweat. This boy already knew his name. He felt his ears burn in shame as he averted his gaze. 

"Yeah," he said softly. "Um.. I'm sorry, I totally forget yours. Even though I've sat next to you for weeks."

The boy laughed, deep and clear and very attractive, in Mark's opinion. 

"I'm Jackson," he said, sticking out a fist. "Don't even worry about it, I'm just good at remembering people."

Mark hesitantly bumped his own with it. Jackson seemed much too enthusiastic for how early it was.

"Jackson," Mark repeated, committing the name to memory. It's not as if that would be hard, since he didn't know anybody else's name.

He'd struggled to make friends since starting university, only succeeding this semester in befriending a freshman student living on campus by taking a biology 101 course for his science credit. Yugyeom had been assigned as Mark's lab partner, so they were in fairly regular contact because of joint assignments. After talking to Yugyeom, Mark decided that the reason he wasn't making friends was because he still lived at home, and was too shy to join any clubs.

This wasn't like high school, Yugyeom had told him. In university, it was much easier to get to know people who lived right by you, who you were always in close proximity with. Campus life sounded much more social than Mark's bus to school, go to class, go home routine. He had no room parties to crash, no roommates to bond with. He envied Yugyeom, who'd already become fast friends with his roommates Youngjae and Bambam. Jackson was still beaming at him, and Mark had to jerk himself out of his thoughts. Jackson was talking again, but Mark had completely missed everything he'd said.

"Sorry, can you say that again?" Mark asked sheepishly, anxiously playing with the pencil in his hand. This was probably the other reason he didn't make friends easily. He was awkward as hell.

"I asked if you want to join the best cram group in the world," Jackson said. "My roommates are both Korean and I make them help me study for this class."

Mark stared for a moment, unsure. He knew he should be jumping at this opportunity that had fallen so nicely into his lap. This was a chance to finally get to know more people, not just a single freshman in a class he couldn't care less for. 

"Sure," he replied, giving Jackson what he hoped was a warm smile. "You tell me when, and I'll be there."

"Great!"

Jackson scribbled down his number on a receipt he pulled out of his bag, but he thought better of it. 

"Actually, just give me your phone," he said, handing Mark his. "You can add yourself. Just press the contacts icon."

Mark took it, scrambling for his own phone and thrusting it at Jackson. The way Jackson smiled so easily made Mark flustered, even though he couldn't quite pin down exactly why.

"There," he said, shakily typing in his phone number. It took three tries to add his number in, because he kept missing the save button. Mark silently cursed at himself the entire time; this wasn't like him. He was awkward, but never this nervous, this shaky. But then again, this was the first time a cute boy had asked for his phone number.

"Done," Jackson said, handing Mark his phone. Mark also gave Jackson's back, taking his own and looking for his new contact. Jackson had entered himself as Wang Master. Mark choked softly.

"Wang's my last name, if you hadn't guessed," Jackson informed him, grinning at Mark's expression. 

"Good to know," Mark replied, laying his head down on the desk. It was much too early for this.

* * *

 

Two hours later they were finally released, and Mark began to gather his stuff as usual. He had only one more lecture that day, but it was in the afternoon.

"What class do you have next?" Jackson asked, tagging along when Mark began to shuffle down the row of desks. 

"I have my biology lecture this afternoon, but it's not until one thirty," Mark said, shouldering his backpack. 

"Wanna come back to my room?" Jackson asked. "I'll make you lunch, and that way I can properly copy your notes."

He stuck out his lower lip and made an expression that looked like it belonged to a small puppy, and not a twenty-year-old university student.

"Sure, why not," Mark said, Jackson's pout making him smile. "What are you making?"

Jackson shrugged, but his pout was replaced by an ear-to-ear grin. 

"Whatever we've got!" he said, linking his arm with Mark's and leading him down the university's main hall.

Mark was grateful for the stream of chatter that seemed to endlessly flow from Jackson's mouth. Mark felt so much less awkward, replying earnestly to various questions Jackson threw at him, but only having to listen to the otherwise one-sided stories. In the ten minute walk back to the student apartments from the main building, Mark knew that Jackson grew up speaking English, but was from Hong Kong. He'd been a champion fencer when he was younger, and was here on an athletic scholarship, although he was heavily involved in the language and music programs.

Mark had told Jackson all about his boring life too, albeit somewhat reluctantly. He discovered they were both involved in martial arts, but that was the extent of everything exciting about him. He still lived at home with his parents and sister, had never been out of the country, even for a vacation, and worked part time as a waiter in a sushi restaurant. Jackson was undeterred though, and even as he unlocked the door to his shared apartment he continued to make conversation, asking Mark about what music he liked.

"I like hip hop I guess," Mark said, shrugging and following Jackson inside. "Used to like to sing and dance a lot when I was younger, but obviously it never went anywhere. I mostly focussed on martial arts in high school, but had to quit when I started university."

"Shit, that sucks," Jackson murmured sympathetically, giving Mark the most expressive frown the other boy had ever seen.

"It's not that bad," Mark mumbled, shrugging again. "I just got busy is all. Had to start working instead, because university doesn't pay for itself. At least, not for me."

Jackson continued to frown as he kicked off his shoes and took off his hat, hair falling into his eyes.

"That still sucks," he murmured, shrugging off his coat and taking Mark's as well, even though all he did with them was throw them on the chair in the corner.

He walked into the kitchen, got out a family sized bag of chips and poured them into a bowl. He handed it to Mark before opening the fridge, bending down at a ninety degree angle to properly scope out its contents. Mark placed the bowl of chips on the counter, standing just behind Jackson and peeking around him.

"Here," Jackson said, handing a carton of something at Mark. "Also this. This should still be good too, but check the expiry date."

He kept tossing various packages and containers at Mark before suddenly standing up, nodding to himself in satisfaction.

"What are all these?" Mark asked, looking at everything Jackson had handed him.

"Everything in the fridge that only requires a microwave," Jackson said proudly, taking the containers from Mark and grabbing two plates, dishing out everything from leftover tempura to microwaveable noodles. "Eat whatever you want, or feel free to leave whatever you don't like. Most of this stuff needs to be eaten soon or it'll go bad. Which is sorta why I needed somebody to come over for lunch."

"Oh, okay," Mark said, watching Jackson quickly stick the plates in the microwave one after the other. "Thanks."

They took their food to the living area, eating mostly in silence, partially because Jackson wolfed his food down like an animal. It was kind of disgusting, but it made Mark feel welcome. Jackson already acted so comfortably around him, it felt like they had been friends for more than a couple hours. Mark gave up trying to be polite, and followed Jackson's lead, also eating without care. They was so busy eating, so caught up in their new friendship, that neither of them noticed the door opening in the front hall.

"Jackson?" Jaebum called. "Did you make lunch?"

Jackson immediately lifted his head at his roommate's voice, groaning.

"I did, but not for you!" He called back. Jaebum entered the room, a scowl on his face.

"Who's this?" he asked, looking at Mark, his sour expression evaporating.

"Mark, Jaebum. Jaebum, Mark," Jackson said through a mouthful of food. He grunted when Jaebum leaned over him, plucking one of the bowls up and wandering off to the kitchen to grab a fork.

"Those were mine," Jackson grumbled, pouting. Mark just laughed, a high, ringing laugh that almost didn't suit his voice. Jackson smiled, unable to hold his pout for long. Mark's laugh was infectious, and soon they were giggling loud enough for Jaebum to poke his head back out of the kitchen, eyebrow raised as he stared at them.

"So," Jackson said, after their laughter had died down. "Will you let me properly copy your notes? I'll clean this up, first."

"Oh, are you sure you don't want help?" Mark asked, knitting his eyebrows together. He quickly snagged his plate as well as Jackson's, stacking them on top of one another. 

"Let me help," he insisted, leaving Jackson no choice but to scramble to get the other dishes together. 

"Just leave them in the sink," Jackson told Mark, gesturing to it. "I'll load the dishwasher later. Notes first, dishes can wait."

Mark sighed, placing them gently down in the sink before hurrying back to the front area to grab his bag and sift through his papers. He produced the notes from one of his folders, holding them out. Jackson snatched them from his hand and disappeared out of the room, only to come back holding a massive notebook.

"I keep all my notes in one notebook," he explained sheepishly. "Makes it easier to keep track of all of them. But then it makes life difficult if I don't bring it with me."

Mark hummed sympathetically and nodded, pulling out his biology textbook to go over the reading he never bothered to look at. He snuck a couple glances at Jackson, who was furiously scribbling down that week's notes. They were silent for a few minutes, the sound of Jackson's pencil scratching against the lined paper and Jaebum's muffled eating from the other room the only noises in the apartment.

"Thank you!" Jackson yelled, abruptly sitting up and brandishing Mark's notes, making Mark jump violently.

"Holy shit, chill," Mark gasped, clutching his chest and willing his heart rate to go back to normal.

"I'm done," Jackson said calmly, and Mark shot him a glare.

"No kidding," Mark muttered, taking his notebook back from Jackson and willing his hand to stay steady.

"Thanks, though," Jackson said warmly, smiling a genuine, toothy grin. "You're honestly a life saver. I'll make you lunch again anytime, too. It was nice having somebody new over for a change."

"Excuse you!" Jaebum called, offended. "Am I not good enough for you anymore?"

"You'd be better if you actually helped me study!" Jackson yelled back, and Jaebum merely grunted at him in response, making Jackson laugh again.

"I should get going soon," Mark murmured, pulling out his phone. It was barely noon, but he didn't want to overstay his welcome.

"So soon?" Jackson whined, looking slightly distraught. His puppy face was back again, making Mark wonder just how often Jackson pulled that expression.

"I guess I can stay, if you want," Mark mumbled, trying to keep his ears from heating up.

"Please stay," Jackson said, softer. "If you do, I can show you some music you might like?"

It sounded like a last-ditch effort to get Mark to stay, so he did. It wasn't like he had anywhere else to go, although in the back of his mind he knew he could be studying.

"Alright," he agreed, and Jackson pulled a victory fist in triumph, leading Mark into his decently sized bedroom.

"It's nice in here," Mark said, looking around. Various posters decorated the walls, and a silver laptop graced Jackson's desk, which had a few pens and some paper scattered across it. The bed was unmade, but other than that, the room was fairly clean for somebody of Jackson's demographic. Mark's room was sheer chaos compared to this.

"I cleaned it earlier this week," Jackson admitted, grabbing his laptop and sitting on the bed. He patted the spot next to him, nodding at Mark. 

"Sit," he commanded, and Mark hurried to obey. He wanted to look around a little more, especially since Jackson had a shelf lined with trophies and medals. But he wasn't one to pry, at least, not this early on.

"What's this?" Mark asked as Jackson opened the music folder on his computer, clicking on one of the songs. It was an artist Mark didn't recognize, but a strong beat and an almost melodious rap met his ears, and he found himself nodding along with the music.

"Do you like it?" Jackson asked, and Mark nodded enthusiastically. "I have their entire album, I can send it to you or burn you a CD of it, if you'd like."

"Sure, if you have time.

"Great! I'll get it to you by next week."

Jackson continued to show Mark various songs and artists, even the occasional music video. The two of them ended up sprawled side by side on Jackson's double bed, clicking through YouTube videos and torrented albums that Jackson had. Mark's side was pressed into Jackson's, appreciating the extra warmth in the cold as balls apartment.

As the time passed, Mark found himself relaxing more, laughing easier. He and Jackson were playfully shoving each other, Jackson's hip sometimes digging into his side, trying to push Mark off the bed when Mark insulted one of Jackson's favourite songs. Finally, Mark slid off, taking a pillow and half the comforter with him, and very nearly Jackson and the computer.

"You deserved it," Jackson growled playfully. "You just insulted the biggest rapper name of all time, you should be ashamed of yourself."

"I don't even know who the hell they are!" Mark laughed, getting up off the floor. He caught a glimpse of the clock radio on the bedside table, and his eyes went wide. 

"Fuck!" he hissed, rushing out of the room to grab his bag. They had been in Jackson's room for ages, and if he didn't leave in the next three minutes, he'd be late for class.

"Where are you going?" Jackson asked, following a frantic Mark into the front room.

"I'm gonna be late!" the other boy gasped, hoisting his bag onto his shoulder. "My class starts in five minutes!"

"Shit," Jackson said, going to grab Mark's shoes for him. Mark moved faster than he ever thought possible.

"I'll see you later!" Mark called as he hurried out the door, shoes half-on. "I'll text you or something!"

Jackson said something else, but Mark didn't turn around, intent on getting to class in decent time.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> eugh this chapter was really slow in the making between writers block and exams, so hopefully I'll not have a month in between updates next time
> 
> thank you to ayu and theo for giving me characterization feedback too u guys rock

Mark made it to the lecture hall only two minutes late. Yugyeom was already sitting in his usual spot, and raised his eyebrows when Mark plopped himself into the desk beside him, red-faced and breathing hard. 

"You okay, dude?" the younger asked, tilting his head. Mark nodded breathlessly, taking out his notes and pen. He groaned a little, seeing he was a few papers short. He'd left his Korean notes in Jackson's apartment, probably lying on the table in the living room. Not that he needed them now, but that meant he'd have to go back there. Or text Jackson to bring them to him sometime. He didn't like to text people first. 

"It's nothing," Mark sighed tiredly, but Yugyeom frowned, scrunching his eyebrows together as he inspected Mark. 

Mark was glad when the professor began the lecture, cutting Yugyeom off from asking any more questions. Mark tried to avoid Yugyeom's curious stare; he knew the younger boy would want to know what happened. Rationally, Mark knew nothing that occurred that morning would be incriminating or even arouse any suspicion, but for some reason just thinking about himself and Jackson on the bed together, sharing music like they were old friends, made Mark's ears burn. He scribbled down notes furiously, trying to concentrate on the lecture. 

As the class wore on, Mark began to relax, finally being able to focus on the material. By the time the class wrapped up, he and Yugyeom were doodling on a spare sheet of paper, all but forgetting his earlier embarrassment. 

"I'll see you in lab," Yugyeom said, getting up out of his seat. Mark was always floored by how tall he was. Mark stood about five eight (five nine if he tried really hard), but Yugyeom towered over him, despite being three years younger than him. 

"Okay cool, see you then," Mark replied, waving to him. He gathered his things, watching the freshman run up the aisle towards the door, probably eager to grab a snack with his roommates. Mark often saw Yugyeom with two other boys around the campus, sitting or eating together. They were always laughing.

He wondered if Jackson was like that with his room mates. Or if they would ever adopt him into their friend circle. Maybe Mark should be trying harder to talk more with Yugyeom; it was entirely possible that Yugyeom and his friends would know Jackson and his room mates. 

His phone buzzed in his pocket, startling Mark a little. He pulled it out of his pocket, unlocking it. 

 

_New Text_

_2:59 pm, Thursday_

_From:_ Wang Master

yo dude u forgot ur notes here. im heading to the gym with jaebum and jinyoung but if u wanna swing by tomorrow u can crash our study group. if u cant come im sure ill see u later on this week! lmk tho so i can bring them.

 

Mark rubbed his eyes. He knew he would be at school tomorrow anyway for his science lab. He knew it would be a good idea to study as well, but it sounded like a lot of work. Regardless, he texted Jackson back immediately. 

 

_3:02 pm, Thursday_

_To:_ Wang Master

yea i know i forgot them. i have a lab at ten tomorrow, can i stop by just before noon? only if that works for you, i don't want to impose. 

 

_New Text_

3:03 _pm, Thursday_

_From:_ Wang Master

and yet somehow u manage to come around lunch time... nah jk jk its cool we'll feed u and u can study with us. see u then ~ <3 

 

Mark stared at his phone, squinting at the little heart at the end of Jackson's text. For someone who he'd only spoken to for the first time that morning, he was awfully flirty. Or perhaps Jackson was just like that all the time. He stuffed his phone back into his pocket, not bothering to reply. He didn't have the energy to try and decode Jackson's possibly but probably not flirtatious advances. He needed to catch his bus home and work on that paper he'd been putting off for the past week. 

 

* * *

 

Mark hadn't had a lot of sleep that night, his paper keeping him up until the early hours of the morning. Yugyeom and a thermos full of caffeine-spiked tea were the only things that kept him alert through his hour-and-a-half lab, the younger boy often having to poke Mark before he dozed off. 

Once the class came to an end, Mark hurriedly packed his things, making even fast-moving Yugyeom raise an eyebrow. 

"Got a hot date or something?" Yugyeom asked jokingly, making Mark blush and furiously shake his head. 

"Study group," he said, giving Yugyeom a tight smile. 

"Where?" Yugyeom asked, blinking at Mark. It was unusual that Mark had plans so soon after class. 

"Dorms," Mark replied, shoving his textbook into his bag and slinging the strap over his shoulder. 

"Oh," Yugyeom said, his face lighting up in surprise. "I'll walk you there. Do I know them? I didn't realize--" He stopped himself, embarrassed that he had been about to admit he was surprised that Mark had finally made more friends. 

"I don't know if you know them," Mark mumbled, gesturing with his head for Yugyeom to walk with him. "Um.. I guess I sort of befriended Jackson Wang? The name sound familiar?"

"Yeah!" Yugyeom exclaimed, eyes bright. "Bambam and Youngjae are friends with him!"

"Bambam and Youngjae?" Mark echoed, the names foreign on his lips but familiar all the same. He'd heard those names before. 

"My roommates," Yugyeom explained enthusiastically. "We met Jackson and Jaebum and Jinyoung on the first mixer for students living in residence."

"Oh."

Mark chewed his lip anxiously. It seemed like everyone he knew was already friends. No matter how hard he tried, he would be an outsider trying to force his way in, or at least, that's what it felt like. Mark caught himself wishing he could be the one to introduce Yugyeom to Jackson, but he quickly dismissed the thought. It was childish, selfish even, to be looking at it like that. He knew he should be grateful that his friends were already on good terms. It would make it more likely for him to get invited to things. 

"Have you met Bambam or Youngjae?" Yugyeom asked. The older boy shook his head. Yugyeom's eyes widened. 

"Shit," he said loudly. "You gotta meet them. They're awesome. Youngjae's super chill, and Bambam's.." He paused, and Mark looked at him to see Yugyeom's cheeks turning red. Mark lifted an eyebrow, and Yugyeom laughed nervously. 

"He's great," Yugyeom said thickly, and Mark laughed as well, making Yugyeom blush harder but smile anyway.

"I see," Mark said, unable to keep the grin off his face. Yugyeom hit his shoulder lightly, pretending to pout. Mark was immediately reminded of Jackson, alarmed at how disturbingly quick he'd come to that conclusion. 

"Shut up," the younger boy muttered, but Mark laughed again, fondly gazing at Yugyeom. He was glad his friend had found someone so quickly; he really was happy for him. 

When they reached the student apartments, Yugyeom turned down the other hall leading to the first year side of the building.  
"I'll see you later!" he called to Mark, waving before he disappeared into the stairwell. Mark waved back, walking along the corridor, praying he correctly remembered which apartment Jackson lived in. He knocked on a familiar looking door, although really they all looked the same when he thought about it. 

He felt a wave of relief wash over him when Jaebum opened the door--he'd found the right apartment after all. 

"Come in!" Jaebum said, stepping aside for Mark and giving him a friendly smile. Mark dipped his head a little and murmured a shy greeting, wandering into the living area where he found Jackson sitting cross legged at the coffee table, pouring over a book and several papers. The air smelled like cheese, the scent wafting from the kitchen and making Mark's stomach growl. He wondered if that was the lunch Jackson had promised him.

"Hey, Jackson," Mark said softly, and Jackson's head whipped up, his confused expression immediately morphing into a wide grin.

"Mark! Dude! I'm glad you came!" 

Jackson got up and promptly handed Mark the notes he'd forgotten the day before; proud of himself.  

"They're all fine and organized," he added. Mark just stared at him.

"You know I'm going to have to scatter them again if we're studying," he said, and Jackson's face fell, making Mark chuckle. 

"I appreciate the sentiment, though," he mumbled, shaking his head and biting back his smile as he sat down. 

Jackson huffed, pretending to be annoyed. 

"Fine, then, I'm gonna go get our lunch,"  he said dramatically, getting up and stomping towards the other room. Mark could hear him clattering about the kitchen and opening the small over door, taking out what he presumed was food.

"What did you make?" Mark asked when Jackson returned, trying to peek at the tray the other boy carried from his seat on the floor.

"Nachos," Jackson said, unceremoniously setting the still warm tray directly onto the wood coffee table. 

Mark's mouth watered; they were only tortilla chips with melted cheese and chopped onions, but they smelled so enticing that his stomach growled loudly. He immediately put a hand over his abdomen, embarrassed when Jackson laughed at him. He would have made a biting remark, maybe something about Jackson's hyena laugh, but Jaebum and another boy Mark didn't recognize entered the room and sat down on the opposite side of the coffee table. 

"I'm starving," Jaebum announced, shoving a handful of nachos into his mouth, devouring them with ease despite being so fresh out of the oven. 

"Same," the new boy agreed, who Mark realized must be Jinyoung, Jackson and Jaebum's other roommate. Jinyoung had sharp, cat-ish eyes and smooth black hair that resembled Jackson's, but darker, if that was even possible.

Mark reached out to take some as well, but realized Jinyoung was staring at him, head tilted, obviously giving him a look-over. 

"Mark, right?" he said, raising his eyebrow. Mark nodded shyly. 

"Ah, you _are_ kinda cute!"

"Excuse me?" Mark coughed, nearly inhaling a chip. 

"Jackson said--"

"Shut _up_!"

Mark saw a leg fly out under the table out of the corner of his eye, Jackson's heel making an unpleasant noise when it collided with his Jinyoung's shin. The darker-haired boy gave Jackson a nasty glare, rubbing his probably bruised leg. Jaebum was laughing and clapping his hands like a seal, seemingly unconcerned for his injured friend.

"The fuck was that for?" Jinyoung asked Jackson, who merely stuck out his lower lip and sulked.

"Are you Jinyoung?" Mark asked softly, trying to draw attention away from whatever was going on between him and Jackson. Jinyoung smiled, nodding. 

"Yeah!" he replied, wrinkling his nose at Jackson and taking some more chips. "I didn't get to meet you yesterday, but I'm glad you could make it. Jackson was excited that someone else could share his misery when we tease him for his Korean pronunciation."

Mark blushed. Right, Jinyoung and Jaebum were native speakers. If they thought Jackson was bad, they'd outright laugh at his own terrible accent. 

"I'm glad?" Mark said, his words sounding more like a question than anything. Jinyoung and Jaebum laughed, and so did Jackson. Mark eventually joined in, happy that Jackson and his room mates were so easy to get along with.

After the enormous plate of nachos had been picked clean, the four boys sat down with their notes around the coffee table, Jinyoung and Jaebum taking turns quizzing Mark and Jackson on their vocabulary and grammar. As Mark predicted, there was a little bit of snickering at his accent, but once he relaxed he managed to have a few simple conversations in Korean with Jackson's friends. 

Were they _his_ friends now too? Mark thought to himself as he practiced answering questions with Jaebum. Was Jackson his friend? Jackson was certainly friend _ly_. And Mark was grateful for the attention that he realized he'd been desperately craving the first couple years of university. 

Eventually, the four of them ended up on their backs on the living area rug, staring at the ceiling, their studying forgotten. Mark and Jackson lay next to each other, with Jaebum and Jinyoung on Mark's opposite side. 

"Do you think if I showed up for class wearing, like, ten hats everyone would think I'm taller?" Jackson asked, and Jinyoung and Jaebum made thoughtful noises. Mark had turned his head to stare at Jackson, who was still focussing on the cracks in the ceiling plaster. 

"Nah, you should try ten insoles instead, more discreet," Jaebum replied, his voice serious.  Mark had tried to whip his head around to stare at him too, but then he heard snickering coming from Jaebum's direction. He closed his eyes. Jackson and his friends were weird.

"Hey, Mark?" Jackson said, making Mark open his eyes and lift his head. 

"Yeah?"

"You should come study with us every time," Jackson declared, grinning when he turned his head to make eye contact with Mark. "It's better when there's someone else here who isn't fluent. Makes the playing field more even."

Jinyoung sat up, his hands on his hips. Jaebum quickly followed, trying to copy Jinyoung but succumbing to a head rush in the process. 

"Jackson, you could bother to actually work on your Korean rather than inserting English words whenever you don't know something," Jinyoung grumbled. Jaebum was nodding and humming his assent, now that he'd recovered from his head rush.

"Nah, it's fine," Jackson said dismissively, waving his hand. "I've got this under control, trust me. I learn better this way." 

He paused for a moment, knitting his eyebrows together, but then grabbed at Mark's thigh when he remembered what he was going to say. Mark jumped at the sudden touch, but didn't move away. 

"Right, I was gonna ask as well," Jackson added. "You wanna come with us to a party next week? Friday night. It's not gonna be huge or anything, the students in the next dorm over usually host one every month. But I haven't seen you at any events, so you're welcome to come with us if you were, y'know. Shy or whatever about it."

Mark looked at Jackson in surprise, rather touched by the offer. Jackson had about zero tact, but at least he was thoughtful and genuine in his words and actions. 

"I guess that'd be alright," Mark stammered, giving Jackson a hopeful glance. "If it's not too much trouble.."

"It's not," Jaebum interjected. "You're legal, yeah? Bring a case of beer, everyone will like you. Or better yet, a bottle or two of vodka. You'll make instant friends."

Jaebum laughed again and Mark squinted at him. He could never tell if Jaebum was joking or not, because everything appeared to be funny to him. The other boy did have a point though--Mark wouldn't want to show up to his first party empty handed, especially if he'd be surrounded by people he didn't know. 

"I'll bring something," Mark decided quickly, his jaw set as he nodded at Jackson and then to Jaebum. "I don't actually drink a lot, but I'm happy to grab whatever you want."

Jackson clapped Mark on the back happily. 

"You're awesome!" he yelled, making Mark smile. "I like anything and everything, so don't be afraid to bring something new you'd like to try."

Mark glanced at Jackson and flashed him a shy thumbs-up, which Jackson responded to with an exaggerated fist bump. 

"No problem," Mark mumbled softly. He was nervous but excited to be finally, _finally_ invited to a party, three years into his university career. 

Mark stayed for another hour, texting his mother he'd be a little late coming home, but only being allowed to leave after promising to come back again for a few more "study" sessions. Jackson had promised to make something a little more spectacular than nachos too, although Mark suspected that meant buying something more exciting, given that Jinyoung had cackled at the idea of Jackson making any complicated dishes. 

Jackson saw Mark to the door, making sure all notes and textbooks were collected this time. 

"Promise you'll come hang out with me more soon," Jackson demanded, hounding Mark as he put on his shoes. 

"Yes," Mark sighed, his smile betraying his otherwise exasperated voice. "I promise. And I'll come next weekend to your party. Don't worry, it's not like I have a lot else going on other than work."

That seemed to satisfy Jackson, who relaxed and unlocked the front door for his friend. 

"Okay," he said, at last standing aside for Mark. Before Mark could leave though, Jackson impulsively pulled him in for a hug, arms wrapping around Mark tightly. Mark was again caught off guard by Jackson's overly-friendly gestures, freezing for half a second before hugging him back. 

"Thanks dude," Jackson said when he pulled away. "I'm really glad you get along with my room mates. We're glad to have you anytime you want."

He sounded the most sincere Mark had ever heard him, his voice soft and earnest as he looked up at Mark. 

"Gaaay," came the call from down the hall, and the two boys turned to see Jinyoung at the end of the hall, smirking as he tried to hold in his laughter at catching Mark and Jackson in such a overly affectionate embrace. 

Jackson slowly and deliberately turned to face Jinyoung, opening his mouth and using his hand and tongue, and made an obscene gesture that looked much too reminiscent of a blow job. 

"Thanks for coming by," Jackson told Mark, who slipped out before anyone could notice the faint pink tinting his cheeks. Mark glanced back to see Jackson and Jinyoung shoving each other, but the door swung shut and he was left alone in the deserted hallway, breathing a little too quickly as he walked down the corridor to make his way to the bus loop. 


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> another shoutout to my betas who have offered a+ concrit  
> if anyone wants to beta for me in the future feel free to shoot me a message too!  
> also i feel like im never gonna update on time so here's chapter three

Mark stood in Jackson's bedroom in front of the full-length mirror, picking at nonexistent lint on his patterned sweater that he'd bought specifically for the occasion. Unfortunately, that was the only thing of his own besides his underwear that he was wearing. He was wearing Jackson's eyeliner, Jackson's shoes, Jackson's necklace, and Jackson was currently standing three feet away, squinting his eyes and tilting his head, examining Mark. 

"I really need all this to go to a party?" Mark sighed, moving on to readjusting his borrowed pants. Jackson's had been too short in the legs and too wide in the thighs, so Mark had ended up in a pair of tight black skinnies from Jinyoung's closet. 

"Yes," Jackson said, crossing his arms and nodding to himself. He made a thoughtful noise and pursed his lips, then ran to his closet and pulled out a black snapback and plunked it down on Mark's head facing forward. '852' was printed on the front in tacky block numbers. 

"Why," Mark whined, hands batting at his head and knocking the snapback off, causing Jackson to grab at it as it fell. It hit the ground and Jackson made a small sound of pain, upset at the disproval of his precious hat. 

"You said this was your first real university party," Jackson explained, picking up his hat and dusting it off before setting it on his own head, backwards. "I'm just making sure you make a good impression. Not that I don't think you would, but you're shy. It's not a bad thing, but sometimes clothes can make all the difference in even just a bit of confidence."

Mark grunted and shrugged, eyeing his reflection in the mirror some more. He barely looked like himself. Jackson had already styled his hair into carefully arranged messy strands, giving Mark that just-rolled-out-of-bed-perfect look. There was no need for any ridiculous snapbacks. 

"I thought Jaebum said that alcohol would make me friends," he groaned, wiping at a smudge of eyeliner just below his eye. He'd even bought both beer and a bottle of hard liquor, just to be safe. Jackson was shaking his head like Mark had just said something absurdly out of line, although Mark was beginning to suspect that Jackson had a different set of party rules than the rest of the student body. 

"It will, but people have to drink it first," Jackson told him. "This is so people think you're cool while they're sober."

"Are you saying I'm not cool?" Mark accused jokingly, momentarily forgetting his worries to give Jackson a playful shove. 

"I'm not saying anything," he replied, holding up his hands in a defensive gesture. "But hey, first impressions count for something."

"I can't believe you," Mark muttered, his fingers twitching with the overwhelming urge to rub at his face. 

Jaebum knocked at the half-open door before walking into the room. Mark turned towards the door, making Jaebum stop in his tracks. Jaebum took in the sight of Mark, the latest victim of Jackson's handiwork, and burst into laughter. 

"Holy shit, Jackson!" He cackled. "We're going to an apartment across the lot, not clubbing downtown!" 

Jackson scowled at Jaebum. Mark scowled at Jackson.

"I'm just trying to help!" Jackson protested loudly as Mark's cheeks heated up. 

Jaebum was only wearing jeans and a t-shirt, paired with a beat-up pair of sneakers. Mark wished Jackson would have let him get away with something like that. It was embarrassing to see Jaebum so casual and himself at the mercy of Jackson. He scowled at the ground, to which Jaebum responded to by walking over and patting Mark's arm comfortingly. 

"It's okay," he assured Mark. "We've all been through this before. You've actually done us a big favour in befriending Jackson, because now he'll pour all his attention and effort into you and leave us to dress ourselves for once."

Mark looked up, scowl gone.

"Excuse me?" he asked, confusion spreading across his face. Jaebum grinned mischievously, making Mark's stomach tighten in apprehension. He threw Jaebum one last desperate glance but the other boy had turned away, chuckling to himself. He groaned and covered his face, almost forgetting not to touch his eyes. 

"Mark!" Jackson yelled. "Don't smudge your makeup!"

Jinyoung finally entered the room to intervene, pulling Jackson towards the door by the arm. 

"Can we just go?" he groaned. "I've been waiting for twenty minutes so you can play dress up with your new boy. I've already had my pre-game drink, I don't wanna get hammered before I fucking get there."

Jackson exhaled loudly as he tugged his arm from Jinyoung's grip and grabbed Mark's hand. 

"Pre-drinking is cheating," Jackson grumbled as he led Mark into the hall to grab their things. Jaebum followed eagerly, shrugging on his jacket and helping Mark with the enormous case of beer he'd brought. 

"Let's blow this popsicle stand!" Jackson announced as he opened the door and sauntered into the hall. He was met with silence and deadpan stares from his friends and turned to roll his eyes at them. 

"What?" he asked. "Have you never heard that expression before?"

He hissed at the lack of reaction to his joke and stuffed his hands into his pockets. He made his way down the corridor without any of the others, ego bruised. 

Mark let a high, barking laugh, the sound echoing down the empty hall. Jackson whirled around to pout at Mark, feigning hurt. 

"You don't laugh at my jokes but you laugh at my pain?" he asked, running back to the small group and latching onto Mark's arm. "You're so cruel, I work hard on my jokes!"

Mark laughed again, this time Jinyoung and Jaebum joining in. Jackson played along, clutching at his chest and pretending to cry. 

Jackson hung onto Mark all the way to the other dorm building, although Mark wasn't sure if it was because Jackson was that affectionate or had simply forgotten he had a death grip on his arm. Not that Mark tried to pull away either. 

"Who's hosting?" Mark asked as soon as they entered the lobby doors. He wondered if he should have asked this question before they'd left; it wasn't as if he wouldn't meet whoever it was in about thirty seconds. 

Jackson took the lead again, tugging Mark down a hall and up a flight of stairs. Evidently he'd been here many times before. He walked the halls as if he owned them. 

They eventually reached a door with a looseleaf sheet of paper duct taped to it, the words 'Please Ring Doorbell' scribbled on the paper. Jackson rang the doorbell but knocked for good measure and stood back, waiting. Muffled music came from inside, and Mark's anxiety about the night reached a new peak when he heard footsteps approaching the door. He had to physically force himself to keep from hiding behind Jackson when it actually opened. 

A tall, handsome boy about nineteen or twenty greeted them, his black hair immaculately cut into perfect feathered bangs that Mark could never hope to recreate on himself. The goofy grin on his face made it hard to tell if he'd already been drinking, but his eyes looked fairly focussed, so Mark guessed the boy's face was just naturally like that. 

"Sungjae, my man!" Jackson shouted, letting go of Mark in favour of hugging Sungjae tightly. Mark felt a twinge of something in his chest watching them, but brushed it off as nerves for his first big gathering with new people. He relaxed a little when they broke apart, Sungjae giving Jinyoung and Jaebum appropriate fist bumps and side hugs in greeting. Then it was Mark's turn to be appraised. 

"This is the friend you said you invited?" Sungjae asked Jackson, but he was looking at Mark quizzically. 

"Yeah, this is Mark," Jackson said, slinging his arm around Mark's neck. "He brought booze."

Sungjae's face lit up, and Mark felt his own face heat up again, the phenomena seemingly becoming more and more frequent since he'd started hanging out with Jackson. He weakly held up the bag that contained the bottle of vodka he'd brought, Jaebum also brandishing the case of beer. 

"Perfect," Sungjae said happily, smiling at Mark now. "Hey, Jackson was right, you're cute. Come in, don't stand there the whole night."

Jackson gaped and ran his fingers through his hair, but it looked more like he was pulling his hair out. 

"I did not say that!" he roared when he saw the smug expression on Sungjae's face. 

"Thanks, I get that a lot," Mark told Sungjae, enjoying the way Jackson sputtered in disbelief. 

"God dammit, Mark!" Jackson protested, pushing past Sungjae and stomping into the apartment. Mark was worried he'd actually hurt Jackson's feelings but less than three seconds later he heard more loud greetings from inside. Sungjae took the bag of liquor from Mark and let them into the apartment. 

"I was just guessing," Sungjae whispered to Mark, the grin back on his face. "He definitely thinks you're cute."

"Th-thank you," Mark stuttered, unsure how to respond to something like that. 

First Jinyoung, now Sungjae had told him the same thing. Did Jackson really think he was that cute? Mark sighed to himself, knitting his eyebrows. Jackson was a dramatic person on the whole; what might look like flirting or a crush might just be Jackson being himself. 

When Mark entered the living room (which looked very similar to Jackson, Jinyoung, and Jaebum's) he was immediately greeted with a much larger crowd of people than he'd been expecting. The coffee table was loaded with plastic cups and several bowls of chips and popcorn, and probably two dozen people were crammed into the tiny space, laughing and talking and drinking. Mark glanced behind him but Jaebum and Jinyoung had disappeared, making the anxiety knot return to Mark's stomach. 

"I'll introduce you to my room mates," Sungjae said, grabbing a fresh cup and handing it to Mark. He poured a can of beer in, one that Mark didn't recognize, nudging it towards him and nodding encouragingly. Mark took a tentative sip and made a face. It was much more bitter than what he was used to. 

"Same," Sungjae murmured, flicking his head towards some boys gathered on the couch. 

Mark took another swig of his drink before following Sungjae. He hoped it wasn't too obvious that he wasn't much of a drinker. 

"Mark, this is Ilhoon, Minhyuk, and Eunkwang."

They halted their conversation to turn to Sungjae, who kept Mark beside him. Ilhoon was thin and looked quite young--Mark wondered if he was a first year. Minhyuk smiled at him, bleached hair falling into his eyes. Eunkwang was a little more friendly, actually reaching out to bump fists with Mark. Something about his face, his high cheekbones and wavy hair paired with his blinding smile made Mark feel quite comfortable, sort of in the same way Jackson did. Mark liked Eunkwang already. 

"You new?" Eunkwang asked, cocking his head. "I've never seen you around before."

"He came with Jackson, Jinyoung, and Jaebum," Sungjae explained. Eunkwang made a noise of assent and nodded, understanding. 

"I'm not new," Mark mumbled, feeling like he should probably make it clear that he was not a freshman. "I'm in my third year. I've just.. never gone to a party at the dorms before."

He figured it wouldn't hurt to not mention he'd never gone to any parties before. 

"Oh!" Eunkwang exclaimed. "That's cool too! Make yourself at home, help yourself to whatever food you can find."

"Thank you," Mark stammered, bowing his head a little and beginning to back away. He  shifted from foot to foot, anxious to find Jackson or even Jaebum or Jinyoung, someone he knew. He swallowed hard, sweating at the thought of approaching people on his own to make conversation. 

Mark gulped down more of his drink before going to find Jackson. His body was starting to warm up, but clearly it would take more than one little beer to get him into a more relaxed state of being. He spotted Jackson on the opposite side of the room near the entrance to the kitchen, chatting up a pretty girl with long brown hair and a smile that rivalled Eunkwang's. Or the sun itself. 

Suddenly Mark wasn't too keen on tagging alongside Jackson, so he glanced around him casually, trying to spot Jinyoung and Jaebum. Neither of them were in sight among the throng of unfamiliar people. Fortunately in his desperate attempt to find someone he knew, he found a face he was well acquainted with. 

"Yugyeom!" Mark gasped, waving to him. Yugyeom looked up at the sound of his name, and Mark could see the younger boy's face brighten at the sight of him. 

"Mark!" Yugyeom yelled, waving back and calling him over. "I didn't know you'd be here, why didn't you say anything?"

Mark shrugged. 

"Didn't know I'd be here either," he admitted. "Jackson invited me this week. I didn't even know the people hosting."

Yugyeom nodded understandingly. 

"While you're here," he said, pulling Mark towards two other boys, both looking to be about Yugyeom's age. "I want you to meet Youngjae and Bambam."

"Hi, Mark!" Bambam exclaimed, his tan cheeks tinted a gentle rosy pink. "Yugyeom's told me about you!"

His black hair looked like it had been styled earlier but had fallen, and by the way he moved his gangly limbs Mark got the impression Bambam was definitely Yugyeom's age, if not younger. The drink in his hand was half-finished.

"That's a cool name," Mark offered, trying to make conversation. Bambam laughed loudly. 

"My real name's Kunpimook, but everyone calls me Bambam," he informed Mark. "S'easier to remember. And pronounce."

Mark nodded, unsure of how to proceed. He turned to Youngjae instead, who's face was much rounder and nonthreatening, especially with his soft blond hair framing his eyes.

"Hey," Youngjae said softly, clutching his own drink but beaming with a sweet babyish smile. "Yeah, Yugyeom says you're really cool. But not very good at biology."

"I'm excellent at biology," Mark protested, crossing his arms and pretending to scowl. "I've gotten a solid C+ on every single assignment without fail in that class. I've never met anyone else with such a consistent grade."

Yugyeom and Bambam also laughed, Yugyeom putting his arm on Bambam's shoulder as if for balance. Really, it looked like Bambam was the one who needed the support, but then Mark saw Yugyeom's hand slip down the dark haired boy's shoulder and pull him in around the waist. He lifted his eyebrow but didn't comment. 

"Mark! I thought I lost you!"

Mark whipped around just in time to see Jackson flying towards him and tackling him with a surprise hug.

"Holy shit, don't do that," he wheezed, bringing a hand up to his heart to calm himself. Jackson grinned, only looking a little sheepish. 

"Jackson!" Bambam suddenly cried, and Jackson peeled himself off Mark to greet the younger boy with an elaborate 'handshake' consisting of several high fives and hand slapping manoeuvres. 

"Bambam, bro!" Jackson shouted back enthusiastically. "Where you been? I haven't seen you in ages!"

"Busy as hell!" Bambam complained, waving his arms and almost spilling his beer. "Midterms suck! This is the first party I've been to since the first week of school."

"Shit, that sucks, I'm so sorry dude," Jackson replied sincerely, shaking his head. "At least you can relax now that they're pretty much over."

Mark stood awkwardly next to Youngjae while Bambam and Jackson caught up. Yugyeom hung off of Bambam regardless of the big body movements the dark haired boy was making. 

"What are you having?" Youngjae asked, peering at Mark's drink. Mark looked at his half-finished cup. 

"Some beer Sungjae gave me?" he replied, his statement sounding more like a question. Youngjae looked at him in horror. 

"Don't drink that!" he gasped. "It's disgusting! Only Sungjae likes it!"

Mark glimpsed around furtively in case Sungjae was nearby, but Youngjae shook his head. 

"Seriously, here."

Youngjae handed Mark a can decorated with swirls and sparkles. Mark squinted at it, mistrustful of the iridescent lettering on it. 

"Try it," Youngjae encouraged, and Mark popped the lid to take a cautious sip. 

His eyes widened in surprise at the bubbly drink--it tasted like fruit punch, but carbonated and with a sharp but not unpleasant aftertaste. 

"Good, right?" Youngjae prompted, and Mark nodded vigorously, easily tossing back half the can in seconds.

"It is," Mark said, and then burped quietly. He covered his mouth with his hand. 

"Oh my god," Jackson groaned, having finished his conversation with Bambam and reappearing by Mark's side. "Youngjae, he hasn't even been here for fifteen minutes, can you not get my friend drunk in the first hour?"

Youngjae shrugged, but his grin suggested he was far from sorry. 

"I'm not drunk," Mark protested. He still had all his senses and wits about him. He just felt warm and his head a little light. "I'll drink some water.. Have some chips.. I'll be fine.."

He rested his hand on Jackson's shoulder, giving it a reassuring pat. Jackson seemed stunned for a moment, but the easy smile was back on his face almost instantly. Mark felt himself being pulled into Jackson's side, the other boy having thrown his own arm over Mark as well. 

Jackson stayed with Mark after that, getting him water and food periodically. Mark held his liquor well, surprising even himself. However, it may have had something to do with Jackson's very thorough care of him.  Jackson followed Mark around like a puppy, and within no time Mark had met plenty of new people, and even acquired a couple phone numbers. All offered to him first, of course. 

At some point later during the evening, after almost everyone in the apartment was well-saturated, Sungjae had turned up the music and partygoers began to dance together. Yugyeom helped to push the coffee table in the middle of the room aside, and Sungjae shoved the chairs to the wall beside the couch to make extra room. 

Jackson tried to bring Mark into the centre of the room to join in but Mark held off, tugging his arm back, unsure if he wanted to dance in front of others while being very tipsy. 

"You go first," he insisted, to which Jackson shrugged and gave him a wink, beginning to weave his way through the gathering of people.  Mark busied himself with tossing back the rest of his fourth? fifth? drink. He wasn't entirely sure by then.

Jackson really was a good dancer, even when intoxicated. Mark stood by the wall, just watching, gripping his empty cup. Jackson's hips moved like nothing Mark had ever seen before, and it seemed like everyone else dancing had begun to form a circle around Jackson. It was probably for the best that Jackson was all but shameless, moving his hips so smoothly and erotically Mark was sure that those types of movements were supposed to be restricted to cabarets and strip clubs. 

Mark also spotted Jinyoung and Jaebum grinding against each other, Jaebum's hands on Jinyoung's hips, the two swaying back and forth to the bass-laden music. He immediately looked away, feeling both a little invasive and jealous. He tried to tell himself that people did silly things when they were drunk, and perhaps the two of them didn't even realize what they were doing, but Mark couldn't help but feel a twinge of envy. He wanted someone to dance with like that. Never in his life, not high school, not university, had anyone ever approached him in that way. His fingers tightened around his can, putting a dent in it. His eyes flitted back to Jackson, and he swallowed hard, as if he might start crying at any moment. That was enough alcohol for the night, he decided. 

He slumped against the wall, where he was joined by another boy around his age with dark brown hair, most of it hidden under a hat turned to the side.  

"Too much t' drink or somethin'?" the other boy slurred, making Mark tilt his head sideways to face him.

 The boy spoke with a bit of a lisp and a (very drunk) Chicago accent. 

"Nah, just wasn't sure if I wanna dance drunk," Mark admitted, sneaking another glance at Jackson. The crowd around him was cheering him on, and Jackson began to move even more sensually, moving his hips back and forth and letting his hands run down his own thighs. Then he gripped the hem of his own shirt, slowly pulling it over his head. Mark could barely handle the hoots and catcalls that rose above the thumping beat. 

"So yurr gon' watch Jackson ins-sed?" The other boy laughed, making Mark groan. How many people in one week could possibly assume that he and Jackson had a thing for each other? Not that Jackson wasn't desirable, he was far from that, but did everyone have to be so blatant about it?

"He's good," Mark said, shrugging. 

"He's naked," the boy deadpanned, and sure enough, Jackson was now missing his shirt. Mark covered his face, groaning with second-hand embarrassment. Jackson was now doing body rolls in the centre of the makeshift dance floor. 

"I swear to god--" Mark began, but at that moment Jackson materialized in front of him, still without a shirt, and pulled Mark to his feet. 

"Please dance with me for just one song," Jackson said in a low, husky, and surprisingly serious voice. "Sorry Peniel, I'm stealing Mark for a bit."

The boy who'd been sitting next to Mark nodded, waving a little as Mark was pulled to his feet. Mark was so taken aback that it was all he could do to allow Jackson to take his hand. 

Mark had danced when he was little, sure, but basic hip-hop classes from when he was eight were not going to help him here. It wasn't as if the others around him were particularly watching him, and there were certainly worse dancers in the crowd, but Mark wasn't quite drunk enough to not care about how he looked either. Jackson was already back in his trance-like state, eyes sometimes closing but re-opening slowly as his entire body seemed to pulse with the beat. Mark tried to mimic some of Jackson's movements, tried to sway his hips the same way, but he felt awkward and he more or less was staring directly at Jackson the entire time just trying to recreate some of his strangely graceful motions.

Jackson was moving constantly and the lights were dim, but it didn't stop Mark from peering at Jackson's chest. He only peeked for a second each time, trying to get a closer look. Three faint scars ran in almost straight lines across Jackson's torso, one under each nipple and then another closer to his belly button. 

"Mark, I didn't think you'd so blatantly check me out," Jackson laughed, waggling his eyebrows. Mark immediately looked away, pretending to still be dancing. 

"No I'm not," he lied. "I'm just wasted, I can't help where my eyes fall!"

Jackson sidled up to Mark, so close that Mark had an excellent view of the scars now. Jackson's eyes followed Mark's gaze and he gave a little noise of realization. 

"Fencing accidents," he clarified ruefully, grimacing. 

"Must've hurt," Mark mumbled, consciously trying to look everywhere but at Jackson's exposed front.The thin line of hair trailing from his belly button into his jeans was making much too easy a sight line straight for Jacksons--

Mark tore his eyes away as fast as he could and focussed on the lamp on the table behind Jackson. That particular lamp was suddenly very interesting, as Mark could not bring himself to look anywhere else, in fear of accidentally looking at Jackson some more. Jackson seemed to be slowing down as well, his dancing less exaggerated and in  time. By the end of song three his head was on Mark's shoulder. 

"Okay, I've had enough," Jackson murmured as the song finished. He collected his shirt that had been tossed to the ground and started to walk towards the kitchen, so Mark tailed after him, confused. 

"That's it?" he asked, and Jackson nodded. 

"I asked for one song, but I already did three with you," Jackson reminded Mark, but Mark continued to frown. Under the brighter light of the kitchen, Jackson looked rather pale. 

"I'm sobering up," Jackson explained, grabbing a new cup and filling it with tap water. "I crash really hard once it starts to wear off. My metabolism is ridiculously fast, I never stay super drunk for long."

"Do you need to go back?" Mark asked nervously, wondering if he should be the one looking after Jackson now. "Where's Jinyoung and Jaebum?"

"No clue," Jackson muttered, gulping down his glass of water and rubbing his temples. "Yeah, sorry man. Think I overdid it a bit tonight so 'm gonna go back. I don't mind going home early by myself if you guys all wanna stay."

Mark pursed his lips. It was barely midnight, with most if not everyone still drinking and dancing and talking. Jackson was leaning against the wall, eyes closed. 

"I'll go with you, we can just text Jinyoung and Jaebum after," Mark decided. 

He pushed his way into the hall, Jackson following him quietly. Mark had never seen Jackson so subdued--it was like Jackson was an entirely different person. It took three full minutes to locate their shoes and coats, which were buried deep within a mound of stuff belonging to other guests. 

"You sure you're okay?" Mark asked when they slipped unobtrusively out the door. Jackson held the side of his head in his hand, rubbing at his temple again. He no longer walked as if he owned the halls either, instead walking rather unsteadily. 

"Yeah," Jackson mumbled, reaching out with his hand. "Dizzy is all."

Mark let Jackson take his arm again, this time being the one to lead. He helped Jackson down the stairs and towards the door, patting his hand a bit when Jackson winced at the biting autumn air once they were outside. They were mostly silent on the way back, aside from Jackson's groaning and Mark mumbling to himself about which direction they were going. Navigating the walkways between the student apartments wasn't hard in the daytime when one was sober, but Mark had some difficulty making out what the signs tacked to the street lamps said. He was also very dizzy, but he wasn't in as much pain as Jackson looked to be in. 

Mark was proud when they arrived at Jackson's apartment. He'd only made one wrong turn. Jackson's eyes were closed when he handed Mark his keys, leaving Mark to attempt to focus enough to slip the tiny key into the lock. It opened after five tries. 

"Hey," Mark said, helping Jackson inside. "Are you okay? Are you gonna be sick?"

Jackson shook his head, eyes still closed. He was leaning against the wall, trying to kick off his shoes. 

"Sleepy," he murmured, and Mark smiled. He almost wanted to film this moment of Jackson being sleepy and quiet. The only time he'd heard that boy so quiet was when they were eating.

"I feel you," Mark agreed, realizing that he was also quite tired now that he was not surrounded by deafening music and laughing people. 

"Bring me water?" Jackson asked, opening his eyes just enough to bat his eyelashes at Mark. Mark sighed. 

"Fine."

Mark wandered into the kitchen and checked the fridge, grabbing the first water bottle he saw. He yawned, the silence around him welcoming after the loud, busy party. If it was okay with Jackson, he'd stay the night, Mark decided. It wouldn't kill him to spend a night on the couch, as he was in no condition to try to bus home now. 

"Here," Mark said as he entered Jackson's room, flicking on the light. Jackson was already cuddled up in bed, but his eyes were open and he reached out lazily, grabbing at the air for the water. 

"Too far," Jackson complained, and Mark had to laugh despite being so exhausted. 

"You're such a shit," Mark told him, walking over to hand him the bottle. "Go brush your teeth, too."

"Too far," Jackson said again, and Mark hung his head. 

"Get changed, at least," he prompted, and Jackson made a displeased sound. Mark thought he was getting out of bed, but Jackson sat up and began to take off his clothes and throw them on the floor, one by one. He was left sitting in his jeans, which he unbuttoned but did not take off. 

But my clothes are too far," Jackson said with a straight face, and Mark slowly sunk to the ground, hands covering his face as he melted into more giggles. He heard Jackson laugh at his own joke from the bed. 

Mark slowly stood up and Jackson was lying down again, arms outstretched. Mark stared at him. 

"What?" he asked, and Jackson opened his arms wider. 

"Are you gonna come to bed?" Jackson's voice was soft and Mark was tempted to get in right then and there. 

"Your bed?" Mark replied carefully. Jackson nodded. 

"There aren't any other beds available..." he told him, lower lip sticking out. Mark shuffled his feet, staring hard at the ground.

"I can sleep on the couch," Mark mumbled, feeling warm but not from the alcohol. As nice as a warm soft bed sounded, something still felt weird to him. Jackson was probably still too out of it to want to do anything but sleep, but his clothes were off and his arms looked inviting and Mark's mind was running through all the reasons he could pull that he should sleep on the couch. None of those reasons looked very convincing.

"Couch is too far," Jackson stated, giving Mark a stern look. Mark swallowed and obliged, moving almost mechanically as he climbed in. He took off his sweater and tossed it into the pile with Jackson's clothes, leaving his tank top on, as well as Jinyoung's jeans. He didn't dare take anything else off.

Jackson draped his arms across Mark as if he were a large pillow or stuffed animal, burying his face in his shoulder. Mark lay still beneath the sheets, trying to decide if the tickle on his arm was the blankets or Jackson's fingers. Jackson's breath was steady and warm against Mark's bare skin, and Mark almost instinctively ruffled Jackson's hair. He pulled back at the last minute, but the boy snuggled into him was already passed out. Neither of them would be moving until Jackson either woke up or rolled over. 

"Goodnight," Mark chuckled sleepily, closing his eyes as he resigned himself to being Jackson's teddy bear for the night.


	4. Chapter 4

Mark woke up very warm, very dizzy, and very confused. He glanced to his right, where his alarm clock usually sat. Nothing but a bare nightstand was there, and sunlight filtered through the blinds in his room, which was weird, since his windows were normally covered by dark curtains. He shut his eyes, trying to ignore the headache he had, and rolled over to escape the wrath of the bright light on his other side. His arm hit something soft, and Jackson groaned, burying his face in the pillows. Mark's eyes flew open, and he sat bolt upright, but a wave of nausea forced him to lie back down and breathe through his nose for a few seconds. 

"Jackson?" he croaked, his throat feeling dry. 

"I'm sleeping," Jackson mumbled, burrowing down even further and spooning Mark's side. Mark stuck his legs out from under the sheets, the heat making his headache worse. 

Once Mark realized where he was, everything came back to him easily, from the ridiculous makeup that he never bothered to wash off to the somewhat dirty dancing he and Jackson had done. He couldn't remember how much he had to drink, but he figured however much he had it had been too much. Mark had never experienced a hangover in his life before, until now, and he wasn't liking it one bit. The only pleasant thing he could perceive was Jackson's soft breathing, slow and steady now that he'd dozed off again. Mark sighed and ran his fingers through his hair, which was sticking up in every direction, thanks to the leftover hairspray and sweat from the previous night.  

Despite his discomfort and protesting body, he was very content to lie next to Jackson. Mark basked in the morning calmness, letting his eyes adjust slowly to the light, but worried that Jackson might not appreciate Mark's company after waking up for real. 

Mark glanced at Jackson, who suddenly looked very small underneath the comforter, surrounded by pillows on either side of his head. Jackson was well built, but Mark had noticed the night before that Jackson was relatively short, even standing next to Mark who was a very average five-foot-nine. And while both of them had consumed a substantial amount of alcohol, and it wasn't as if Jackson gave off any homophobic vibes (rather, he gave off quite the opposite), but even the friendliest, cuddliest of people had regrets after a night of partying. Mark didn't like the idea of being someone's regret. 

He shook himself, trying to dispel the thoughts that resembled those after a one night stand far too much for his liking, even though technically he and Jackson hadn't done anything of the sort. Sure, he'd hooked up with a girl or two in high school, but this felt different. And a hell of a lot more awkward. 

"Shit," he hissed, realizing his movement had made Jackson stir again. He was hyper-aware of Jackson's chest pressed up into his side, legs so close they were practically intertwining. Jackson rolled over though, freeing Mark enough for him to slowly sit up again. 

"Mmm, sleepy," Jackson hummed softly, and Mark smiled. 

"I'm just going to the bathroom," Mark whispered, and Jackson made a small noise of acknowledgement. Mark had no idea if any of his words had actually gotten through to the dozing boy. 

He swung his legs off the bed and stood carefully, taking stock of his body. His clothes were still on, of course, his hair felt greasy, and the dull pain in his head made it hard to focus. More than anything, Mark decided, he needed a shower, but he would probably have to wait until he got home. Or perhaps Jackson would lend him more clothes.

He walked out of the bedroom, trying to be quiet. Rustling came from the kitchen, so he poked his head inside the door as he walked past. Jinyoung was standing with his back to Mark, drinking a tall mug of coffee and staring at the silver toaster on the counter. Mark presumed he was making breakfast for himself, and tried to tiptoe away softly. He'd forgotten about texting Jinyoung and Jaebum when he'd taken Jackson home, and he hoped neither of them would be mad at him and Jackson for ditching them. However, Jinyoung turned around when he heard the floorboards creak under Mark's feet. Mark froze. 

"Oh, hey," Jinyoung murmured drowsily. "I didn't know you slept over, we thought you left early."

"Yeah, Jackson and I did," Mark admitted. "Jackson wasn't feeling well towards the end. We meant to text you, sorry 'bout that."

"S'okay," Jinyoung replied, jumping a little when his toast popped up. He grabbed it and began to butter it sloppily, and Mark guessed Jinyoung was forcing himself to eat more than anything. "Do you want breakfast?" He gestured to his toast. "You don't look so good."

"Maybe later," Mark said, giving Jinyoung something that resembled a smile. "I'm gonna go pee first."

Jinyoung nodded understandingly. 

"Go," he told Mark. "I'll get you something to eat when you come back."

Mark headed off towards the bathroom, shuffling his feet as he went. Moving fast was not agreeing with him.

He went about his business, and splashed some cold water on his face in the hope it would help wake him up. Mark stared at himself in the mirror, the smudged makeup making the bags underneath his eyes even more prominent. He scrubbed at the black filth with the back of his hand, succeeding in smearing it down his cheek but not actually getting it off. He sighed, swearing to himself he would never to listen to Jackson again. 

As he exited the bathroom, Jaebum pushed past him, bumping Mark's shoulder by accident. Before Mark could open his mouth to speak the bathroom door slammed shut behind him and he could hear faint retching sounds. Mark winced a little, feeling sorry for Jaebum. 

He made his way back to the kitchen, where he found Jinyoung half-heartedly nibbling at his toast. 

"Feel better?" Jinyoung asked, and Mark shrugged. Jinyoung wordlessly handed Mark a piece of buttered toast, and gestured towards it. Eating wasn't a high priority for Mark right then, but he forced himself to swallow a few bites, just to satisfy Jinyoung. 

"Thanks," Mark mumbled, using his breakfast as an excuse not to talk. 

"I smell food," Jackson announced as he walked into the kitchen. He'd changed clothes, wearing a t-shirt and sweatpants. Mark squinted at him. Jackson didn't seem to be hungover like the rest of them. Lucky bastard.

"You left me all alone in bed," Jackson complained, going to scout the kitchen for something to eat. "It was cold when you left."

Jinyoung had been drinking his coffee, and he made a snorting sound before starting to cough. 

"Wait, you--"

He looked back and forth between Mark and Jackson, the latter paying absolutely no attention now, and fixing himself some toast as well. 

"No!" Mark said loudly, seeing the look on Jinyoung's face. "T-that's not.. It's not what you're thinking!"

Jinyoung just leaned back against the counter, coughs punctuating his laughter. 

"What am I thinking?" Jinyoung asked, and Mark felt his face heat up and his head begin to throb again. 

"Jackson wouldn't let me sleep on the sofa," Mark grumbled, ignoring Jinyoung's question. He stared furiously at his feet. 

"Is that true?" Jinyoung asked, turning to Jackson, who had made a chocolate spread and peanut butter sandwich for himself. Jackson took a bite, shrugging. 

"Probably," he mumbled, mouth full. "I was sleepy and my bed was cold."

Mark nodded, still staring at the tiles on the kitchen floor. Jackson sounded so flippant now, but the night before he'd been so clingy, and barely an hour ago he'd snuggled right up against Mark. Had Mark been misinterpreting Jackson? Perhaps it really had simply been alcohol making Jackson less aware of his actions, and the implications of them. Mark was scowling hard now, his confusion only serving to add to his headache.

"Whatever you say," Jinyoung sighed. He looked like he was about to say something else, but Jaebum walked in on shaky legs, his face pale. 

"Shit, you look awful," Jackson noted, grimacing at his roommate. Jaebum only shrugged, grabbing a mug and making a bee-line for the fridge. He pulled out a carton of orange juice, filled his mug, then moved silently to sit at the tiny table in the corner. 

"Do you want something to eat?" Jinyoung asked, but Jaebum shook his head very slightly. 

"No, thanks," he mumbled, taking a cautious sip of his drink. "I feel like crap."

"You look like it," Jinyoung confirmed. Jaebum just groaned. 

"Hey, Mark, you're welcome to shower," Jackson offered as the rest of them finished up their food. "If you need to borrow clothes that's fine, as long as you return them."

Mark bit his lip, the idea of a proper shower very tempting. 

"Sure, why not?" Mark said, and Jackson motioned for him to follow. 

"I'll get you some clothes," he told Mark as they entered the bedroom. Mark waited patiently as Jackson rooted through his drawers for another pair of sweats and a pair of boxers. 

"Everything's clean," Jackson assured him, tossing some clean clothes at Mark. "The pants should fit you this time, they're baggy."

A wad of fabric hit Mark square in the chest, and he scrambled to catch them before they fell. 

"Thanks," he muttered, unravelling the ball of clothes and folding them over his arm. 

"You can use anything and everything that's already in the shower stall," Jackson said. "Towels are in the closet."

Mark nodded gratefully and shuffled off to shower, happy that he'd made the decision to clean up before trekking home. 

He took his time, letting the steam fill up the cramped space, washing himself very thoroughly and scrubbing his face until he was positive there was no makeup left. By the time he stepped out, the mirror was completely fogged up, so he drew a kitty face with his finger in the condensation while he wrapped himself in a clean towel. 

Mark didn't want to step out of the warm bathroom, but he knew he shouldn't take up any more time in there than needed, seeing as it was the apartment's only bathroom. He quickly pulled on the clothes Jackson had loaned him and hurried out, not even able to appreciate how free and comfortable he felt after being restricted in Jinyoung's skinny jeans for so long. 

"Jackson?" Mark called as he exited the bathroom for the second time that morning, padding down the hall with soft, clean feet back to Jackson's room. "Jackson?"

Jackson was sprawled on the bed and lying on his stomach, his headphones on as he watched something on his laptop. He paused when he heard muffled noises coming from behind him, turning around to find Mark standing at the foot of his bed. 

"You okay?" Jackson asked, and Mark nodded. He was feeling much better now that he was clean and fed. 

"Yeah," Mark murmured. "I.. should probably head out soon, though... Gotta bus home and all.."

He eyed Jackson carefully, trying to watch for a reaction. He didn't get one, and Mark felt something in his chest sink a little. It's not like he had been expecting Jackson to pout and beg him to stay, or to offer him a spot in the bed beside him and then make lunch. It wasn't as if Mark should even have _wanted_ to stay; he had homework and reading and chores to do. 

"I'll see you in class then?" Jackson asked, tilting his head but not getting up from the bed. Mark swallowed and dipped his head. 

"I'll see you in class," he echoed, giving Jackson a small wave and moving to collect his things. Jackson waved back but left Mark to his own devices, leaving the other boy slightly crestfallen. Mark pulled on his shoes and put his clothes into the bag he'd brought the evening before, calling out a goodbye as he left. He heard Jinyoung and Jackson call back but let the door click shut behind him as he walked away, frustrated at himself for a reason he couldn't quite name.

 

* * *

 

The rest of the weekend consisted of Mark frantically doing his homework, rushing through his chores, and stressing over the fact that it had been almost 24 hours and Jackson had not texted him. Mark contemplated texting first, but each time he pulled out his phone he immediately put it back, convinced that he had no reason to be texting Jackson, or that he wouldn't get a reply. Mark knew rationally that it was absurd to be acting like this, but he couldn't help but think about the disinterested send-off Jackson had given him after the party. 

Sunday night after his shift at work, Mark lay in bed, the covers pulled over his head, wide awake. He still hadn't heard from Jackson, or anyone for that matter, and he was beginning to worry that he'd done something wrong. His mind ran through all the different scenarios that might have happened, whether or not they were actually possible. Suddenly his blood ran cold. What if he'd offended Jackson not directly, but because everyone thought they were gay? Mark had never technically labelled his sexuality, he just let people assume. It wasn't as if he had much to go on, other than a couple of girls in high school. Never a guy, although the idea of one wasn't horrible either. Maybe Jackson really was _just_ friendly, nothing more. The idea of kissing Jackson wasn't repulsive. For all the embarrassment that came with it, Mark was alright with letting people assume Jackson was into him. It was actually rather flattering, considering that Jackson was good looking and popular, but now it was entirely possible that Mark had been irritating someone who only wanted to be his friend this whole time. 

"Fuck it," Mark muttered, sitting up and grabbing his phone. He stared at his contact list, quickly changing the 'Wang Master' contact to 'Jackson'. 

 

_11:49 pm, Sunday_

_To:_ Jackson

  _hey dude, are u doing any study groups this week?_

 

Mark clutched his phone, heart beating much faster than it needed to. He opened a game on his phone, trying to pass the time, even though he couldn't be sure Jackson would text back that night. Ten minutes later, his phone buzzed and Mark breathed a sigh of relief.

 

_New Text_

_12:02 am, Monday_

_From:_ Jackson

_ oh yeah.. maybe... i'm not sure we haven't decided on a day yet this week _

_ i'll let u know? _

 

Mark's spirits fell just as quickly as they'd risen. Jackson was still giving him the cold shoulder it seemed. 

_12:05  am, Monday_

_To:_ Jackson

_ cool. see you in class _

 

_New Text_

_12:06 am, Monday_

_From:_ Jackson

 

u too.

 

Mark felt even worse than he had before texting Jackson. He put his phone down on the bedside table, turning the ringer off. He stared at the blank ceiling, contemplating what his options were, and what his next move would be. Obviously Jackson wasn't going to instigate anything anytime soon, and Mark was at a loss. He had no idea how he was supposed to proceed. He didn't know how to reconcile a friendship that had barely any time to blossom. 

As he finally began to calm down, he made up his mind. He would ask Jinyoung and Jaebum for advice. Mark grabbed his phone again and typed up a quick message to both of them. 

 

_12:20 am, Monday_

_To:_ Jaebum, Jinyoung

_ hey, its mark. are u two ok to talk in private sometime this week? _

 

With that, Mark curled up, content to leave his phone for the night as he drifted off into a fitful sleep. 

 

* * *

 

Tuesday afternoon rolled around and Mark shifted from foot to foot as he waited outside Jackson, Jaebum, and Jinyoung's apartment.

"Mark!"

The door swung open to reveal a smiling Jaebum, Jinyoung trailing along behind him. 

"Hey, come in! What's up?"

Mark stepped inside, wringing his hands self-consciously. 

"Um, I just wanted to ask you guys some stuff," he mumbled, sucking on his bottom lip. "Also, uh, Jackson isn't here, right? Like you said?"

Jinyoung cocked his head, frowning. Mark had asked to speak with both him and Jaebum but specifically without Jackson.

"He's at fencing practice," Jinyoung said slowly, exchanging a glance with Jinyoung. "What's going on? Did you two have a fight?"

Mark shook his head, his mouth moving but no words coming out. He felt slightly sick, and possibly the urge to cry, but he held it in, refusing to get this emotional in front of Jinyoung and Jaebum.

"Hey, let's get you into the main room," Jaebum murmured to Mark, escorting him to the smaller couch in the main room. He and Jinyoung took the one opposite Mark, the two of them gazing at Mark in concern. 

"What's on your mind?" Jinyoung asked. "You look pretty upset."

Mark took a deep breath, and only spoke when he was certain he would be alright.

"I think Jackson's mad at me," he explained in a quiet voice. "I don't know what I did to piss him off either. We haven't even spoken since Sunday."

Jaebum raised his eyebrows, surprised. 

"Really?" He asked, confused. He looked at Jinyoung, who had a similar quizzical look on his face. 

"Do you know why he'd be mad at me?" Mark pressed, hanging his head. 

"I don't think he's mad at you," Jinyoung said, trying to reassure Mark. "Honestly, Jackson thinks you're the greatest thing in the world. He just sometimes gets busy with fencing is all, if you're worried about him not replying to your texts."

But Mark had texted Jackson close to midnight. He couldn't have possibly been at fencing practice at midnight, right? Mark huffed, dissatisfied with the answers he was getting from Jackson's roommates.

"But maybe I did something to make him uncomfortable," Mark mumbled, shrugging. "Like.. Jackson might think that I like him or something, because everyone was always saying..." He trailed off, playing with his shirt sleeve. 

"Do you like Jackson?" Jaebum asked seriously, leaning forward. Mark shrugged again, but he didn't meet Jaebum's eyes. 

"Does it matter?" he asked, avoiding the question. "If Jackson thinks I do, he's probably gonna avoid me--"

"Whoa, whoa, dude, what the hell are you saying?" Jinyoung interjected. "Jackson fucking adores you, he doesn't shut up about you. I bet you anything he thought _you_ were mad at him. He said you were acting kinda weird the morning after the party."

Mark's eyes widened. Had he acted weird? He'd definitely felt weird, and not in a good way. Unless Jackson had been coming onto him and Mark had accidentally rejected him somehow? Shit, what if Jackson had been trying to cuddle and Mark had pushed him away? But that would mean Jackson would have to be into him...

"But er.. is.. um.." Mark fidgeted, trying to word it in a way that would be non-offensive, but giving up and just blurting it out. "Is Jackson even gay?"

Jinyoung and Jaebum exchanged a look, and burst out laughing. Mark stared helplessly in confusion. 

"Is Jackson gay!" Jaebum howled, clutching at Jinyoung. "Of course he's gay, what did you think? I thought you'd have picked up by now!"

Mark scowled. He'd had his suspicions, but that didn't stop him from second guessing himself and overthinking things. 

"Okay," he murmured. His tongue darted out of his mouth to lick his dry lips, and Jinyoung and Jaebum gave each other another look. "Um.. Can I tell you guys something?"

"Do you like Jackson?" Jinyoung asked quietly, no trace of teasing or ridicule in his voice. 

Mark looked away again and chewed the inside of his cheek. 

"Sort of?" he mumbled so quietly he was barely audible. "Like... I think.. so? He's really cool and I really like being his friend, at the very least. But I.. I don't know. I've never been with a guy either, and I wasn't even sure if he'd want me."

The room went quiet as Jaebum and Jinyoung took in Mark's words. Both of them looked thoughtful, albeit a little concerned. 

"I'll say this," Jaebum sighed after a moment. "Jackson won't turn you down, if you wanted something a little more than casual friendship with him. He likes you, very much by the looks of it. Just.."

He sighed again, at a bit of a loss for words. 

"Just be open and trust Jackson," Jinyoung finished, and Jaebum gave him a grateful smile. "He's an open book most of the time, but sometimes it takes a little bit of reading between the lines to fully understand him and what he's gone through."

Mark had absolutely no idea what the hell Jinyoung was talking about, but he smiled anyway. 

"Thank you," he said warmly, meaning it. "You two won't.. tell Jackson about this, right?"

Jaebum grinned. 

"Cross my heart," he said, making an 'X' motion over his chest, and Jinyoung did the same. 

Mark stood, and Jinyoung escorted him to the door, waving as Mark turned down the hall that was becoming more and more familiar. He pulled out his phone when he heard the door shut behind him, sending off a quick text before heading to class. 

 

_2:09 pm, Tuesday_

_To:_ Jackson

_ can i talk to you after lecture on thursday? alone. thanks :) _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> once again thank u to everyone who volunteered to beta for me, also im sorry for the long wait for such a boring filler chapter but cross my fingers i won't wait another month in between updates.. im so sorry


	5. Chapter 5

Mark fidgeted in his seat throughout the entire morning lecture on Thursday, trying to avoid Jackson's curious stare. He'd purposely come to class a little bit late, to put off any questions Jackson might ask him. Mark's stomach churned anxiously as he nibbled on his breakfast bagel, attempting to ignore Jackson sitting next to him and absorb the information the professor was writing on the board. 

Normally, the early morning lecture would leave Mark bored and sleepy, but today the clock could not have gone faster. He knew he'd have to explain himself to Jackson regardless, but it didn't stop Mark from hoping he could delay the inevitable confrontation.

The professor ended the lecture ten minutes early, and Mark cursed under his breath, glaring at the clock as if it had betrayed him. He heard Jackson stir beside him, gathering his books and papers. Mark sighed and moved to do the same, his fingers feeling numb as he nervously rehearsed in his head what he was going to say to Jackson as soon as they were out of the classroom. He practiced each way he could voice it; casually, seriously, even jokingly. Mark was so wrapped up in his inner monologue that he didn't notice Jackson reaching for him until he felt a hand on his shoulder. 

Mark gave a small yelp and flinched, and Jackson retracted his hand, a hurt expression on his face. 

"Dude, you okay?" Jackson asked softly, knitting his eyebrows together. "You've been quiet and jumpy all morning..."

His words hung between them, and Jackson looked as if he wanted to say something more, but Mark just ducked his head and quickly shoved the rest of his things into his bag. 

"Do you.. um.. is there a place we can go that's private?" Mark mumbled, ignoring Jackson's question. "We don't have to go to your dorm if Jinyoung and Jaebum are home."

Jackson thought for a moment, narrowing his eyes and screwing up his face. 

"Library?" he suggested after a moment. "If you go to the basement where all the really old books are, there's no one there. I went down there once by accident, and I ran into one person on that whole floor."

Mark nodded immediately, eager to leave the lecture hall. 

"Lead the way," he said, trying to sound cheerful and upbeat. Jackson gave him one last look before turning down and walking up the aisle. Mark followed close behind him, counting the steps he took to distract himself from making up excuses to leave. Jackson rattled what sounded to Mark like a stream of consciousness the whole time, filling the silence to try to keep the tension down. Mark never would have imagined he would be grateful to hear Jackson recite the entire plot of Pokémon Diamond. 

Jackson kept checking over his shoulder, looking at Mark every so often as if making sure he was still there.

"Are you sure you're okay?" Jackson asked, breaking the silence between them. Mark's head snapped up, but all he could do was shrug under Jackson's concerned gaze. He didn't know if he was okay. He knew he could be clearing things up once and for all and possibly strengthening his friendship with Jackson. He knew he could potentially introduce the idea of being something _more_ than just Jackson's friend, but on the other hand, Mark couldn't shake the fear that he'd somehow ruin everything. He was beginning to regret asking so specifically to see Jackson in private. He should have waited for an opportunity to present itself instead of working himself up.

They made their way inside the library and Jackson led Mark to the small elevator on the far wall, past the librarians' desks and textbook rental shelves. He ushered Mark in and pressed the button labeled _B_ , and the doors closed with a soft thud. Mark tried to keep his breathing under control as the elevator descended, physically restraining himself from shrinking away when it opened again.

Jackson stepped out first, then Mark, who looked around in awe. He'd been at the school three years and not once had he ever come to the library's basement, which was where the old archives, original texts, and out of print books were stored. Someone brushed by them, most likely a grad student by the looks of it, but Mark couldn't see anyone else even behind the shelves. The basement was by far the quietest place on campus that Mark had ever been. 

"It's nice here," Mark breathed, worried that anything more than a whisper would disturb the calm atmosphere. "I could come here to study sometime..."

Jackson hummed his agreement softly, looking around at the shelves of dusty books. He wandered around with Mark for a while longer, finally stopping behind a large cabinet filled with textbooks that looked like they belonged to another century. 

"Is this private enough for you?" Jackson asked, and Mark squinted, wondering if he was only imagining a tinge of sarcasm in the other boy's voice. 

"Yeah," Mark sighed, slumping against the cabinet, probably getting grime and dusty all over the back of his sweater. "I suppose it is."

He looked around, taking a deep breath, his ears feeling warm. They were definitely the only ones there, but that didn't stop Mark from stalling. Jackson's expression was gentle; he was being surprisingly patient that day.

"Look," Jackson eventually sighed after Mark failed to make any noise. "If this is about the party..."

"No!" Mark said loudly, and he quickly glanced behind him to make sure nobody had heard him. His voice echoed a little bit, but the silence that followed ensured they were still alone. "No," he mumbled quieter. "Or at least.. I'm not upset about that. I didn't mean to make you upset or uncomfortable or anything."

Jackson raised an eyebrow, his lips quirking up somewhat involuntarily. 

"I'm not upset," he said softly, putting his hand on Mark's arm. 

"But--" Mark tried to protest, jaw hanging open like a fish as he struggled to put together a coherent sentence. "But you didn't think I was mad at you? Or that I don't like you?"

Jackson shook his head, his smile growing wider. 

"Maybe a little," he admitted. "But it's nice to know that you're not upset. Seriously, though, no hard feelings."

He put his fist out for Mark to bump it, which the older boy did, but Mark chewed his bottom lip restlessly. 

"Mm, Jackson.." Mark murmured. "Um... Is it... er... Can I ask you something, um, personal?"

He cringed at his own awkward transition, but Jackson promptly dipped his head in assent. Mark balled his hands into fists so hard he could feel his nails digging into the skin of his palms. 

"You're.. you're gay, right?" Mark was sweating now, the words sounding clumsy coming out of his mouth. "Not that there's anything wrong with that. I.. I just wanted to make sure? I mean--if you're.. I sort of am, but I don't want you to, um, take this the wrong way? Shit, this wasn't what I meant to say, I'm so sorry."

He was babbling and he knew it, but he couldn't seem to make himself shut up. The hair on the back of Mark's neck prickled uncomfortably and he felt warm and shaky. 

"Are you finished?" Jackson asked after Mark paused. A smirk tugged on his lips, and Mark wanted nothing more than to sink into the musty, carpeted floor. 

"Sorry," Mark muttered again, looking everywhere but Jackson's face. Jackson ducked, trying to catch Mark's gaze but the other boy appeared determined to make as little eye contact as possible. 

"Mark," Jackson said firmly, folding his arms. "It's fine, it really is. I don't try to hide it, I thought you'd have figured it out on your own by now." 

Mark shrugged, embarrassed because Jackson was keeping his cool much easier than he was. Not to mention Jinyoung and Jaebum were also completely right about everything. Mark could have saved himself a whole lot of humiliation, but of course, nothing was ever that simple. 

"But.. " Jackson continued, watching Mark carefully. "You also said.. You too? Is that--?"

"Yeah," Mark said softly. "Well, not entirely. I'm not totally, one hundred percent gay if.. if that's what you're asking. But, you know, I'm not.. one hundred percent straight either."

Jackson blinked and ran a hand through his hair, exhaling audibly. 

"That's alright too," he told Mark. "Whatever you are, it's cool. Is that what you wanted to tell me?"

Mark went quiet, shaking his head. 

"No," he sighed. "I wanted to make sure before I made an even bigger idiot out of myself. Because.. um.."

Mark knew exactly what he wanted to say, but his mouth was not cooperating, making him look incredibly gawky. Jackson leaned in, close enough that Mark was so sure he could feel Jackson's breath against his. Or maybe Mark was hyperventilating. It was hard to tell when Jackson got up in his face like that. 

"What do you want?" Jackson purred softly, and Mark felt like exploding. "Mark, you can trust me. I promise, I won't hold any secrets against you."

Mark shrugged and mumbled something, and Jackson leaned forward again.

"What was that?" Jackson asked, frowning. "I didn't hear you."

Mark mumbled again, but Jackson was craning his neck now, still trying to hear. Mark huffed frustratedly and pulled at his face with his hands. 

"Go out with me!" he yelled, startling Jackson who took a step back. Mark paled and stood there, frozen. He wished he could move. He wanted to crumple into a ball and lie on the floor for a thousand years. But he stood stock still, an eternity seeming to pass as he and Jackson stared into each other's faces in shock. 

"Okay," Jackson blurted, surprised by Mark's outburst. "Right now?"

Mark couldn't even bring himself to be upset; Jackson sounded so genuinely surprised that Mark managed to regain some control of his body. He shook his head, putting his hands up. 

"No, no, of course not right now," he stammered, keeping his voice hushed. "I meant anytime. Sometime soon."

Jackson made a small "mmhm!" noise, nodding at Mark. 

"Yeah, I'd like that!" he replied easily. 

Mark's eyes narrowed suspiciously. How was Jackson so cool with all of this? Had he not noticed Mark's small breakdown at all? Or had he just forgotten?

"I'm serious," Mark said, and Jackson's smile faded. 

"I know," Jackson murmured. "As am I."

"Are you sure?"

Mark was probably testing Jackson's patience, but he liked to be sure. He wasn't going to commit to something that would flake out on him in two days. 

"Yes, I'm sure," Jackson told him, crossing his arms and pouting. "Do I need to prove I'm sure?"

"How--" but Mark was cut off by Jackson giving him a swift peck on the cheek, followed by a tired smile. 

"I'm sure," Jackson repeated gently, tentatively taking Mark's hand. Mark let Jackson lace their fingers together, and shyly gave the shorter boy's hand a squeeze. Jackson grinned. 

Jackson didn't have the smoothest hands, nor the warmest, but Mark found himself relaxing already, like this was the most natural thing to do. He stood blushing, not wanting to leave the library just yet, but unsuccessfully coming up with an excuse to stay. 

"Just don't be weird about it, okay?" Mark said, half-joking and giving Jackson a nudge with his elbow. "I'm still.. your friend. And I like it when you take me to parties and let me study with you."

Jackson's expression softened, and Mark thought he may have caught Jackson's eyes tearing up the slightest bit. He didn't dare comment. He stayed still for a minute more, half-hoping Jackson would kiss him again, maybe kiss him properly, but neither of them budged. 

They stood watching each other, eyes hopeful and shy, until they heard the elevator beep. Mark hurried to the edge of the nearest shelf, peering around it while Jackson hovered just behind him. They observed an ancient man, probably a professor, hobbled in their direction. Both the boys dove backwards to the floor, hiding and giggling at their own ridiculousness. Mark crawled forward, army style with his elbows to the ground and his head kept low. He surveyed the area, before giving a thumbs up to Jackson. 

"All clear!" He whispered, crawling back. Jackson covered his mouth to stifle his laugh, and pulled Mark close. 

"Y'know," Jackson murmured softly. "This is a very nice place if..."

His voice trailed off, and Mark found himself cuddled up to Jackson, their limbs crammed together in the small space. 

"Yeah," Mark breathed, and the corners of Jackson's lips turned up. 

"We can keep this place in mind."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was gonna post a longer chapter sooner, but uh my cat has been missing and I've been dealing with midterms and shit so here's what I have for the time being. thanks for bearing with me and this slow moving fic.
> 
> also things will be picking up from here on out in the story :) i have good things planned do not worry


	6. Chapter 6

Mark had been nervous about seeing Jackson again after their library encounter. But Jackson was once again responding to his texts with prompt enthusiasm, keeping Mark in high spirits. 

Unfortunately, they never seemed to have enough time together. Three days after his confession, Mark wiggled impatiently in his seat in the cafeteria and picked at his boxed sushi with his chopsticks, wondering how to entice Jackson into kissing him. Or at least inviting him over for some proper private time. He chewed slowly and thoughtfully, nodding as Jackson told him one of the stories that he never appeared to run out of. 

One week later, and Mark was invited to another study session. Even though he was in their apartment, he and Jackson had no time for privacy thanks to Jaebum's insistence on making vocabulary flash cards. Mark assumed Jackson had told his roommates what had happened, as Jinyoung kept poking fun at him each time Mark looked Jackson's way. Mark buried his face in his textbook to hide his embarrassment. It was nice to have Jackson pressed up beside him on the floor, but the looks and giggles coming from Jinyoung and Jaebum were less than welcome.

"Make them shut up," Mark grumbled as Jinyoung made a teasing remark about how Jackson looked like a puppy when he was sidled up against him. 

"If I take you to my room, it'll be worse," Jackson murmured back, cheek smushed into the side of Mark's arm. "You should come over another time, when they're out."

Two weeks passed, and Mark was growing more and more frustrated. 

It was only after sixteen days and no real progress or even a hint of a growing relationship did Mark actually show up at Jackson's door, knocking loudly and huffing to himself. Deep down, he hoped nobody would answer. He hadn't texted Jackson or given him any warning; he'd simply decided that he deserved some answers. He couldn't afford for Jackson to turn him down or conveniently have something else to do. Not that he believed Jackson would do that to him. 

To both his relief and dismay, Jinyoung opened the door with a surprised expression on his face. 

"Hey," Mark said quietly, awkwardly shuffling his feet. "Um.. Jackson wouldn't happen to be here, would he?"

"Yeah, he's here," Jinyoung replied, frowning in concern. "He's in his room, just go on in."

Jinyoung flashed Mark a thumbs up and tight smile before Mark disappeared down the hall of their apartment to knock on the door of Jackson's room. 

"It's open!" Jackson called from inside, and Mark pushed his way in, closing the door quietly behind him. Jackson looked up from his position on the bed, looking startled for half a second when he saw it wasn't Jaebum or Jinyoung. 

"Hey," he said, sitting up quickly."What's up? Did you text me..?"

Mark shook his head, walking slowly to Jackson's bed and sitting down, hands in his lap. 

"No, I just wanted to talk," he murmured, staring at his hands. He idly picked at the grime underneath his nail, trying to occupy himself while simultaneously attempting to form the right combination of words that would fix his problems. 

"Everything alright?" Jackson prompted after Mark said nothing. Mark shrugged but looked up, tentatively meeting Jackson's eyes. 

"I guess," he mumbled, and Jackson scooted closer, putting a hand on Mark's arm. 

"Is there something specific you wanted to talk about?" he asked, and Mark nodded, looking away. 

"It's about... us," Mark said slowly. He could feel Jackson's hand on his arm like a hot iron.

"What about us?" the other boy asked warily. "If you're not happy, just say so. I'm not gonna like, freak out at you."

"Jackson..." Mark sighed, digging his nails into his palms. "It's been over two weeks. I know we've.. been taking it slow, but don't you think this is a little _too_ slow? We.. We haven't even gone on a proper date yet."

Jackson blinked, looking surprised. 

"Oh... I'm sorry? I didn't.. I didn't mean..."

Mark felt his throat go dry. He braced himself for some sort of rejection, for Jackson to say that maybe this wasn't working, or maybe they still needed more time. The silence that followed was suffocating.

"Where do you want to go?" Jackson's voice seemed to echo off the walls in his room.

Mark turned and gave Jackson a confused look. 

"What?"

"Where do you want to go?" Jackson repeated. "Like.. For a date, I mean."

Mark let out a soft, grateful noise, a quiet thanks to whatever higher power was looking out for him. 

"Anywhere," he replied honestly. "I just want to spend time with you."

"You should move in with us then," Jackson laughed, and Mark couldn't help but chuckle as well. Of course Jackson would suggest something so silly, even if the offer was tempting. 

"You know what I mean," Mark chided, elbowing Jackson in the ribs. 

"Fine, fine," Jackson sighed, rolling onto his back on the bed. "What about a movie? Cheap, easy, and I can put my arm around you and pretend I was yawning. **"**

"Shut up," Mark muttered, but he was smiling. A movie sounded lovely to him, and the idea of such a cliché date was rather comforting.

"Clear your Saturday night," Jackson told him. "Students get discounted prices if we attend any showing after seven at the downtown cinema."

"Shit, that's a sweet deal," Mark murmured, and Jackson nodded his agreement. 

"Sweet deal for a sweet guy," he added, kissing Mark's cheek. Mark was too flustered to cringe at the awful line Jackson delivered, and rushed to return the favour. Unfortunately, his nose collided with Jackson's jaw. 

"Ow," he groaned, rubbing his nose with his fingertips gingerly. Jackson laughed loudly, and brushed his lips against Mark's nose. 

"Chill," Jackson told Mark, who in turn pretended to scowl and sulk. He couldn't hold it for long though; Mark's frown faded the moment Jackson cuddled up to him and pressed his face into his shoulder. 

Eventually, they agreed on a 9 p.m. showtime, after taking almost thirty minutes browsing upcoming films on Jackson's laptop. 

"Oh, right, I have to take my sister somewhere in the morning," Mark blurted, wanting to smack himself for forgetting. "Why don't I drive then? I'll pick you up, so I can get home afterwards."

"You don't want to stay over?" Jackson asked, making puppy eyes at Mark, who was swiftly succumbing to their power each time the other boy pulled them on him. 

"I can't," Mark sighed. "Maybe next time?"

"Maybe next time."

* * *

 

Saturday night found Mark hauling the ten-year-old family sedan to the university campus to pick up Jackson. He texted Jackson to let him know he'd arrived, not wanting to make the trek to the apartment for fear that Jackson would deem his outfit inadequate again.

 

_8:15  pm, Saturday_

_To:_ Jackson

i'm here. you ready? i'm the silver car right by the lot entrance. 

 

_New Text_

_8:17 pm, Saturday_

_From:_ Jackson

coming!!!!!!!!!!!

 

Mark smiled widely at Jackson's excitement, staring at his phone screen and re-reading Jackson's text. He was excited too--this was their first official date, and it _felt_ official too. Mark was buzzing with anticipation, so he began a new game on his phone even though his fingers were trembling to keep himself occupied while he waited.

He jumped when Jackson knocked on the passenger window of the car, the noise scaring him. He unlocked the door, grinning. 

"I'm gonna watch the shit out of this movie," Jackson declared. "It's supposed to be really good, I hear the actors are awesome."

"I heard that too," Mark said, pulling out of the lot. "I hope we get good seats."

"We will," Jackson assured him. "We should get popcorn too. And slush drinks, and candy, and--"

Mark listened patiently as Jackson listed off where they'd sit, what they'd get to eat, and how he planned to make their night cost no more than twenty dollars each. 

"This movie better live up to its hype," he inserted. "You better not be fucking with me and 'accidentally' take me to see a musical." Jackson recoiled, feigning horror. 

"I would never lie to you!" he exclaimed, placing a hand over his heart. "I am the most honest, truthful person you will ever know, and this movie's gonna be great."

"I trust you," Mark laughed. 

He let Jackson grumble to himself as he found a place to park, and they entered the theatre together, arms linked tightly. Mark hummed in satisfaction to himself when he felt Jackson tighten his grip, keeping them held close. Jackson seemed to be oblivious to the double-takes people were giving him. Mark sweated a little under the stares of strangers, but he held his head high and ignored everyone around them, happily eating up Jackson's undivided attention. They took their seats, the very back row and dead centre, a perfect view. The room was relatively empty, which Mark found strange, considering that they were about to see the latest big-name movie to be released. 

The lights dimmed, and Mark settled back into his seat, enjoying being on his date.

It was the most boring action film he'd ever seen in his life. If it hadn't been for Jackson holding his hand and resting his head against Mark's shoulder, Mark probably would have dozed off right then and there. Even the large cokes and shared popcorn wasn't enough to keep him awake. 

He left the theatre slightly confused as to what the plot was, so Jackson filled him in, telling him about the significance of each car chase, each gun fight, and how the protagonist won over his love interest by showing her life in the fast lane. Mark couldn't have cared less for any of it.

"Then after he shot the pope, he picked up the sword and ran after the blond lady. I bet you anything she was pregnant too, but with the other guy's kid, even if they didn't say so."

"C'mon dude, that's so unrealistic," Mark countered, but he giggled. Jackson was more entertaining than the film by a long shot. "I didn't even see half of that, and I know the writers weren't creative enough to think of that."

"Maybe blond lady was just gassy!" Jackson stuck out his tongue and imitated a very loud and very wet fart. 

"You're gonna make me fucking crash!" Mark howled, tears in his eyes.

"Then stop laughing!" Jackson shot back, trying to suppress his own laughter at Mark. 

With great difficulty and careful driving, Mark finally got them back to the student apartments, parking in the visitor's lot just outside the buildings. 

Mark turned the car off and undid his seatbelt, moving to get out and see Jackson off.

"Stay there for a second."

Mark turned to see Jackson got out of the car, nudging the door shut with his hip. He hurriedly made his way to the driver's side, opening the door for Mark like a gentleman from an old film. 

"Thanks, dude," Mark said, exaggerating his eye roll at Jackson before laughing. 

"My pleasure," Jackson replied, grinning widely and paying Mark's smirk no attention. 

Mark could see Jackson glance around the deserted grounds as he stepped out of the car. 

"You really have to go home?" Jackson asked sadly, even though it was well past eleven and he was already home. The campus was eerily silent, and Mark wondered briefly if he'd seen a scene like this in a horror movie. 

"Yeah," Mark sighed. "Gotta take sister to her dress rehearsal for her dance class, remember? Fun times... Sunday morning..."

Jackson nodded sympathetically, his lower lip sliding forward into his familiar pout. 

"Text me, okay?" Jackson murmured, his voice unusually soft. He had reached forward and was playing with the scarf Mark had worn that night, fingers fiddling with the tassels on the end. Mark didn't pull away. 

"Of course," Mark replied, feeling something in his stomach tighten **.** Jackson was so close, so  tempting, so _easy_ to just reach towards and take into Mark's arms. Mark's mind raced a mile a minute, trying to make the split second that could make or break their evening. Should he? Should he wait?  

But Jackson made the decision for Mark and was leaning in, his eyes half lidded, but he was aiming for Mark's cheek. Normally, Mark would have let everything run it's course, let Jackson do what he wanted and that would be it. Normally, Mark wouldn't have turned at the last second, meeting Jackson's lips in a chaste but hard kiss, making Jackson's eyes fly open. Mark hastily pulled back and the two of them stared at each other for a moment that seemed to stretch on forever. Mark's heart was in his throat, worried that he'd done something bad. Jackson's fingers were still in Mark's scarf, but he'd tightened his grip and it almost looked like Jackson was kneading the soft fabric. He seemed to be steeling himself for something, and Mark's shoulders sagged a little in disappointment. Nervous anxiety churned in his stomach, and it only worsened as Jackson refused to meet his gaze. 

"S-sorry," he stammered, but as soon as the word left his mouth Jackson looked up, a determined fire in his eyes. 

He pulled Mark in by the scarf, half-choking the older boy, their lips meeting much more forcefully than either of them anticipated. Jackson made a soft noise of protest when their teeth clacked together, but he loosened his fingers and softened the kiss, enough so that Mark could push Jackson against the side of the car, hands tangling in dark, soft hair. 

Jackson's hands were around Mark's waist, precariously low on his back, fingers hookedin the belt loops of Mark's pants. Their tongues awkwardly played with each other, darting in and out of the other's mouth. It was hard to tell if Jackson had any experience, because despite the way he eagerly lapped back at Mark, he seemed much more nervous under another person's touch than someone who seemed so confident and sure of himself. Mark experimentally began to kiss slower, deeper, and less as if this were his last time to see Jackson. 

Jackson responded eagerly, welcoming the kisses from Mark and sighing into each one. Both of them had their eyes closed, and little by little Jackson relaxed into Mark, trapped between the other boy's body and the car door. 

Mark, spurred on by Jackson's actions, pressed himself a little closer, his hands drifting from Jackson's hair down his neck and coming to rest on his chest. Mark toyed with one of Jackson's nipples through the thin fabric of his shirt. Jackson tensed up, his breathing going shallow. 

"Mark," he breathed, finally breaking away to catch his breath. "What.. What are you doing?"

"Nothing.." Mark replied softly, nuzzling Jackson's cheek before going in for another kiss. "I mean.. is.. is this okay?"

Their kisses had been so spontaneous that Mark had forgotten to ask if Jackson was okay with any of this, seeing as they'd never gone this far before. 

Jackson didn't reply, only kissed Mark again while the other boy instinctively opened his mouth. Mark relished each time Jackson's fingertips brushed against his sides or his face, the thrill of making out in the empty parking lot adding to his excitement. 

Each time Jackson kissed him Mark could feel heat rushing south, and he was vaguely aware of how tight his jeans felt. He ignored it for the time being, knowing full well that he wasn't ready to fuck in a public space (or at all for that  matter), but still pulled Jackson against him, their bodies pressed together. Mark tried to wedge his leg between Jackson's thigh but Jackson's eyes flew open, and he violently shoved against Mark, who stumbled backwards and stared in shock and confusion. 

"I'm sorry," Jackson whispered, his voice so small that Mark wondered if this was the same person who he'd been kissing just moments before. "I'm sorry, I have to go."

"Wait, hey, it's okay--"

But Jackson was already pushing past Mark and jogging off, leaving the other boy standing alone and disconcerted. Mark stood still for another moment, watching Jackson disappear into the night. His limbs felt heavy and disconnected from his body, the total confusion taking over for a solid three minutes.

He came to when he shivered, the night air having made its way through the thick fibres of his sweater. He dejectedly returned to the car, and pulled out his phone, debating whether or not to text Jackson. He paused for a second, hand hovering over the unlock button, but he threw his phone into the seat beside him, too upset to type anything coherent. Tears threatened to spill over, but he brushed them away, determined not to cry. 

_It must be a mistake,_ Mark thought to himself, desperately trying to come up with something reassuring. Excuses fired off one after another, none of them comforting. 

_He's still nervous._

_He was just experimenting._

_Maybe he forgot he had a curfew._

_He hates you._

Mark miserably rested his head on the steering wheel, looking out the windshield into the dark lot. Driving home suddenly seemed much more daunting.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [makes finger guns and grins]
> 
> also feedback+comments+stuff are always appreciated but yknow  
> is cool if ur just camping out silently for the gay stuff


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, this isn't really an update, but I've been extra busy as second semester of university is coming to an end. I'm working on the end chapter(s) of this fic, I promise!!! Stuff will be explained and all that, but until then, please enjoy chapter 6.5 which wasn't actually planned, and didn't get a beta read either.   
> thanks for bearing with me and my slow updates

Jackson peeled through the courtyard and into his building, heart racing almost as fast as his legs. He took the stairs two at a time, not wanting to stay still and wait for the elevator. His senses were still overloaded from kissing Mark in the parking lot, every noise making him jump.

Jackson couldn't remember the last time he'd had a scare like this. High school perhaps? Someone had gotten too close for comfort, although it hadn't quite been like tonight. He shook his head, running down the hall until he reached his apartment, slamming the door behind him. 

He forced himself to take a few deep breaths, although they came in gulps that made him nauseous. He leaned against the cold door, willing his heart to calm down a little. 

"Hey, how'd your date go?" came the call from the living room. 

"Fine, Jinyoung," Jackson called back, his voice coming out a lot shakier than he'd meant it. 

"Are you okay?" Jaebum asked. "You sound out of breath, did you get some action tonight?"

Jackson felt his blood run cold again. He forced a laugh out, brushing tears that formed in his eyes away. 

"Maybe," he replied, kicking off his shoes and making a bee-line for his room. 

He shut the door quietly this time, not wanting to further disturb his roommates. He walked over to his bed, pulling his legs up and curling in on himself. 

"You really fucked up this time," he whispered to nobody in particular. 

Jackson pulled out his phone. He wondered if Mark would be upset at him for running off for seemingly no reason. 

_Of course he's probably upset,_ Jackson thought to himself. _You blew him off and ran away. He probably thinks you're some sort of freak now._

He pulled up his sleeve, staring at his wrist. The scars had long faded. He hadn't self-harmed since... eighth grade? ninth? It had been years; after he'd turned 16 his life had gone considerably uphill, and he was not nearly as disgusted with himself as he once had been. The tan skin on the underside of his arm was virtually perfect, no scars or blemishes to be seen, at least in the dim lighting of his room. 

He needed to text Mark. He needed to come clean, to explain himself properly. But the moment he began to imagine telling Mark everything, he was immediately hit hard with an intense wave of anxiety. Mark had been so receptive from the beginning, he'd let Jackson talk about anything and even wanted to _be_ something. Mark was the first person in a long time to want him so genuinely, and now Jackson was almost certain that he'd fucked up enough to push Mark away.

Finally after what felt like years of gazing at the same spot on the wall, Jackson finally sent Mark a quick text. 

 

_12:09  am, Sunday_

 

_To:_ Mark  <3

 

hey r u there? im sorry about tonight, i can explain.

 

The minutes ticked by with no response. Jackson could feel the dread building up inside him, ready to claw its way out of his stomach like a small demon. He swallowed hard and sent another. 

 

_12:15 am, Sunday_

 

_To_ : Mark <3

 

please let me explain i feel really really bad about this i know i messed up 

 

Jackson was on the edge of something, and he didn't want to find out what exactly it was. He needed Mark to reply, to give him any indication that he even wanted to see Jackson again. He kneaded the sheets on his bed, feeling sick and exhausted. 

 

_12:19 am, Sunday_

 

_To_ : Mark <3

 

i'm sorry. i'm really sorry mark. please text me when you can.

 

Jackson resigned himself to not receiving a reply that night. He lay down, letting himself cry silently into his pillow. He ruined something good. He just hoped he hadn't ruined it _for_ good. 


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ITS HERE

Mark had immediately gone to bed that night. He'd kicked off his shoes, turned off his phone, and promptly fallen into a uneasy, fitful sleep. Part of him hoped Jackson would text him sometime during the night, although another part of him hoped that everything that had happened had just been a very lucid dream.

He woke up before his alarm, feeling groggy and disoriented as sunlight filtered through the small window in his bedroom. He checked his phone, powering it up again after he'd shut it off the night before. 8:03 a.m. A whole twenty-seven minutes before he had to be up and about to drive his sister.

Mark blinked, letting his eyes adjust before he looked at the messages he'd received. He scrolled through his phone, his stomach turning a bit when he saw that all three texts were from Jackson. Mark set the device back down on his nightstand, debating on getting up and getting ready before reading them, but his curiosity got the better of him.

He snatched his phone again and opened each text, feeling the guilt start to gnaw at him. He had ignored Jackson, not on purpose, but it sounded like Jackson was apologetic and upset now. Mark read the messages several times over, trying to form a coherent answer. If he answered now, he would look like the world's biggest asshole. If he answered later, he would look like the universe's biggest asshole. He hung his head, wishing he had at least seen these about eight hours earlier. 

 

_8:09 am, Sunday_

 

_To:_ Jackson

 

hey i'm sorry i didn't see your messages last night. i'm gonna take my sister to dance rehearsal.. you're probably asleep but i wanted to let you know that i'm not angry or anything.. text me i guess. if you want.

 

Mark sent the message before he could second-guess himself. Sooner was always better than later when it came to apologies. He threw his phone to the bed and got up to root through his closet for something to wear. Jackson would probably be sleeping for a while. There was no sense in getting himself worked up by checking his phone every few seconds. 

He found a wrinkled t-shirt and an old pair of black jeans to throw on before venturing out to the bathroom to wash his face and brush his teeth. He took his time, but when he returned to his room to check his phone again the clock only read 8:32. So much for killing time. 

Mark stuck his phone back into his pocket and sat on the bed, putting his head in his hands. He was no longer upset, but he was confused and worried. He hoped Jackson was okay.

Mark eventually made his way to the kitchen, slowly shuffling his feet over the cold tile floors to grab a protein bar for breakfast. He found his sister eating a large bowl of cereal, watching a video on her phone at the table. They exchanged quiet grunts in greeting as he pulled up a chair, neither of them speaking as they ate. 

"Let me know when you're ready," Mark said after finishing, getting up and going to the main room to wait for his sister. 

Within minutes they were in the car, Mark at the wheel. It wasn't a long drive; traffic was minimal and before he knew it he was alone in the car for the second time in twelve hours. It was bright out though, not pitch black like the night before. He felt his phone buzz in his pocket and itched to pull it out. Mark considered pulling over to the side of the road just to check his phone, but he kept his hands on the steering wheel and his eyes on the road. Whoever it was (Jackson), and whatever they (Jackson) wanted, they (Jackson) could wait.

The neighbourhood was still mostly calm when Mark finally pulled into the driveway at home. Sitting at the wheel, he slid his phone from his pocket and took a deep breath, mentally preparing for anything that Jackson could possibly say. 

 

_New Text_

 

_9:49 am, Sunday_

 

_From:_ Jackson

 

god mark im so sorry. about a lot of things. i wanna talk to u soon please. i have lots of fencing practice this week but u deserve the full story but in person. dont let me forget.

 

Mark squinted at his phone, tilting his head. He couldn't think of anything off the top of his head that was so big it was only worth telling in person. But then his mind began to wander, and he clenched his fists, wondering if Jackson was just putting off something. They had barely been together a week but.. had the date gone so bad that Jackson felt he had to break up with Mark? Was Mark that bad a kisser? Maybe it was something so horrible that Jackson had no way to put it into words. Maybe Jackson had never liked Mark from the beginning and had lied the entire time.

He shook his head, trying to dispel the intrusive thoughts. Jackson seemed sincere enough, and like he wanted to reconcile. He didn't seem distant at all, rather the opposite. 

Mark gathered up the courage to text him back, still sitting in the drivers seat of his parents' car. He typed out his reply, backspacing over and over until he finally had a message to send. 

 

_9:53 am, Sunday_

 

_To:_ Jackson

 

i work after school on monday and tuesday, but maybe i'll see you after korean class? 

 

Mark didn't even have the chance to put down his phone before he received the reply text.

 

_New Text_

 

_9:54 am, Sunday_

 

_From:_ Jackson

 

ok.. but if u get the chance maybe we can see each other earlier? id rather talk sooner than later. 

also mark im not mad i promise, its just hard to talk about.

 

Mark let out a relieved breath. Jackson couldn't possibly be breaking up with him if he wasn't mad. But his stomach still twisted with anxiety. He was worried about Jackson. He toyed with his phone in his lap, wondering what to say to that. What was he supposed to say? He didn't have experience with this sort of thing, nor was he sure what to do with himself. 

He genuinely contemplated driving to the university right there and then, but he had homework and chores to do. He sent one last text to Jackson instead.

 

9:57 am, Sunday

 

_To:_ Jackson

 

thats ok. i'll message u if i can see u before thursday. <3

 

He hoped the heart wouldn't be too inappropriate, but Jackson immediately sent a heart back, and Mark smiled a little. No matter what was going on with Jackson, their relationship appeared stable enough that Mark could quell his curiosity for the moment and head inside to accomplish what he had to for the day. 

* * *

 

Mark and Jackson texted on and off most of Monday, save for the four-hour shift Mark had to work in the evening. They kept their conversation light, away from anything too serious and uncomfortable. Mark tried to keep himself in check, telling himself that if Jackson wanted to talk about something, he would bring it up. Jackson was not one to keep his thoughts to himself.

Unfortunately, Mark did not get to hear from his boyfriend until after his work on Tuesday; Jackson had been at fencing practice for almost the entire day. It was almost midnight before Mark got the goodnight text, complete with about twenty different emojis and hearts. Mark went to bed in high spirits, only to be woken up the next morning with about five texts from Jackson. 

 

_New Text_

 

_7:52 am, Wednesday_

 

_From:_ Jackson

 

i cant do this anymore i cant lie to you please come see me today skip class if you need

 

_New Text_

 

_7:56 am, Wednesday_

 

_From:_ Jackson

 

its nothing bad i guess its not really lying if im just not saying anything but i need to tell you the anticipation is going to kill me if i dont tell you now please text me when you wake up

 

_New Text_

 

_8:03 am, Wednesday_

 

_From:_ Jackson

 

i'll make you dinner too my roommates will be out of the apartment all day and i need to tell you privately

 

_New Text_

 

_8:04 am, Wednesday_

 

_From:_ Jackson

 

if you cant its ok i just. really miss you and want you here

 

_New Text_

 

_8:15 am, Wednesday_

 

_From:_ Jackson

 

i'm sorry mark.

 

Mark sat up in bed, blinking the sleep from his eyes. It was only nine now, so it probably wasn't too late to catch Jackson. 

 

_9:01 am, Wednesday_

 

_To:_ Jackson

 

jackson are you okay? i guess i can come over if it's that important... let me know when you want me over if you can. 

 

Mark didn't get up, and lay back down in favour of checking his email and then playing a game. His class started at 11:30, but if Jackson texted him before then, Mark decided he'd go see him instead. 

Mark did not skip class often, and even then it was always for a good reason. Skipping made him nervous; maybe it was residual anxiety from high school where attendance was regularly kept. Even though he attended a big university, Mark still felt uneasy not knowing what was going on in class. 

His phone vibrated in his hands barely two minutes later, interrupting his game. 

 

_New Text_

 

_9:03 am, Wednesday_

 

_From:_ Jackson

 

hey that would be great i'd love to have you anytime during the day today! i'll get us lunch too :)

 

Mark froze for a second, re-reading the message. Just an hour ago Jackson sounded like he was having a breakdown, and now he sounded much more like his bright and cheerful self. He texted Jackson back, frowning a little, but he agreed to go anyway and meet Jackson by 11:30. 

Having settled that, Mark went to shower and get dressed, wondering what the hell was happening. The hot water helped him to relax, unwinding some tension Mark hadn't even realized he'd been carrying. The last few days had been more than taxing on him, and he was glad to be seeing Jackson later that day. He couldn't take the constant worrying about whether Jackson was okay or not. 

He sped through his morning routine, not bothering to condition his hair in the shower or pick out a particularly nice outfit. He barely tasted his cereal, too anxious to eat properly. He was ready to leave before ten--probably a new record. He usually dragged himself out of bed and took his time, attempting to cling to sleep. But today he paced around the room, wired and anxious to leave, even though he didn't need to do so for another thirty minutes. 

He tried to play some games on his phone again, but couldn't concentrate. Finally, he decided to leave the house and be on his way. If he arrived early, so be it. 

The bus ride seemed much longer than usual, even though according to the clock on Mark's phone it was taking the same amount of time as it always it took to get to the university campus. Mark squirmed in his seat, looking out the window and watching the familiar landmarks go by. He counted the blocks as they went by, trying to focus on something other than his own apprehension. He took slow, deliberate breaths, closing his eyes as the bus neared its destination. 

He stood before the vehicle stopped, ensuring he was the first one off the bus. He yelled a quick 'thank you' to the driver and headed towards the student dorms rather than the central building. Mark strode at a brisk pace, shivering as the wind found its way through his thin hoodie. The warm air of the student apartment building was welcomed after the breezy walk, enough so that he managed to stay calm until he reached the door of Jackson's apartment. 

Mark knocked on the door, straining his ears to see if he could hear footsteps. Sure enough, a muffled scrambling noise came from inside followed by Jackson yanking the door open. He grinned up at Mark, his demeanour less perturbed than Mark originally imagined. 

"Mark!" Jackson exclaimed, ushering Mark inside and giving him a hug. Mark wrapped his arms around Jackson reflexively, stunned at the receptive welcome.

"H-hey," Mark replied, not bothering to hide the confusion in his voice and face. 

"Take your shoes off, and help me out," Jackson told him. "I'm cooking lunch, you need to chop the veggies for me."

Mark wordlessly took off his shoes, squinting a little at Jackson who then disappeared into the kitchen. Jackson seemed awfully cheery, and not at all stressed or upset. He didn't have a lot of time to worry though--Jackson stuck his head out the kitchen door to call Mark in. 

"Coming?" he asked, and Mark nodded, feet padding along the hardwood floor of the apartment. "You can start slicing those carrots, and then the onions. I've got everything else going, I just have to make the sauce and put the noodles in."

"These here?" Mark asked, pointing to a plastic bag on the counter next to a cutting board and knife. 

"Yeah, I've washed them, they just need to be cut and it'll go faster if there's two of us."

Mark made a noise of assent and washed his hands in the kitchen sink, then took out a carrot and began to slice it thinly. He hummed softly, amused at himself. He hadn't skipped class just to make lunch in a tiny kitchen, he'd come to work out relationship issues that supposedly warranted Mark to haul ass to the dorms instead of the lecture hall. But he was there anyway, helping Jackson cook like it was nobody's business. 

He finished his task, dumping handfuls of carrots and onions into the large pot on the stove. By the look and smell of it, Jackson seemed to be making some sort of mystery noodle soup. The unidentifiable meat broth was a translucent brown colour, but smelled good to Mark nonetheless. Jackson had another pot of noodles going, which he then transferred into the larger mix of veggies and broth. Mark watched, mildly fascinated, stepping out of the kitchen and out of Jackson's way as he attended their meal. He'd never seen Jackson so domestic _._ He smiled to himself, thinking that Jackson looked cute without his snapback, hair curling a little from the steam that rose from the pot and bent over the stove so intently. Mark wondered what it might be like to live with Jackson, and get to see him like this every night. But he banished those thoughts, telling himself he was getting too far ahead too soon. Jackson still had to tell him what was wrong too; Mark had waited three days and he wasn't going to leave without the explanation he was promised. 

"I'm starved, lets eat!" Jackson's voice echoed through the small apartment, startling Mark. He set two large bowls down on the table, sticking a pair of chopsticks and a spoon into each of them. 

"Wow, that looks good," Mark said, impressed. Jackson was apparently a man of many talents. 

"I'm just starving, I didn't have any breakfast today," Jackson murmured, sitting down and all but dumping the bowl's contents into his mouth. Mark lifted his eyebrows. 

"I thought you were an athlete," Mark said between bites. "Can't skip meals and all that shit."

"I was nervous this morning and couldn't eat," Jackson replied sheepishly. "But I'm better now that you're here. Just really hungry."

Mark grinned at him, but he did feel relieved to hear that Jackson had in fact been anxious to see him and talk to him, and it hadn't just been Mark's imagination. 

"Finish eating first," Mark said firmly. "Then we can... Yeah."

His last sentence fell flat, and he quickly scooped more soup into his mouth to avoid saying anything else. Jackson didn't appear to notice, as he downed the last of his bowl faster than Mark had ever seen anyone eat. 

"Just put your stuff in the sink when you're done," Jackson said, getting up to do so. "I'll do the dishes later."

Mark ate as fast as he could, not wanting Jackson to wait too long for him. He stood to put his bowl away too, not bothering to drink the last of the soup at the bottom. 

"Meet me in my room?" Jackson asked softly, keeping his voice hushed as if he was worried someone else might hear. "I'm just going to go to the bathroom."

"Sure," Mark replied, following Jackson down the hall but turning into the other boy's room. He sat on the bed, crossing his legs and trying to get comfortable. He pulled out his phone and fiddled with it, not liking how awkward he felt in Jackson's room alone. It was a small space too, fairly standard for a university apartment suite, but having nowhere to sit but the bed made him antsy. It was not so much the cramped space itself, but the bed seemed too intimate, too reminiscent of the weekend's incident to feel appropriate. 

Mark jerked his head up when he heard the door open. Jackson smiled at him and hurried over, sitting on the bed next to Mark and taking a deep breath. 

"Mark..." Jackson started, reaching for his hand. Mark let him take it, giving it a little squeeze. "Have you talked to my roommates about.. anything? Concerning me, that is. At any point."

Mark blinked, mouth slightly open. 

"I.. Yeah," he murmured, not wanting to lie. 

"What did they tell you?" Jackson asked. 

"They just confirmed for me you're gay," Mark answered, embarrassed. He could feel his cheeks go pink. "I wasn't sure if you were interested..."

"No, no, trust me, I was into you," Jackson assured, giving Mark a smile. He then let out a breath and dropped his gaze, staring at his fingers entwined with Mark's. "So they didn't tell you anything else?"

Mark shook his head. "No, not as far as I know."

"I see..."

Jackson looked like he was having trouble finding his words. His mouth opened and closed with no sound, and his head would raise a little only to drop a second later. Mark squeezed Jackson's hand again, putting his other hand on Jackson's knee. 

"Look, I'm not... ignorant, exactly," Mark said softly, dipping his head as well. "If... If you don't like sex or whatever, I won't push for it. I knew someone in high school who was asexual, and she said she wasn't interested in... that sort of thing... I guess."

He shrugged, not sure if he was going in the right direction. 

"It's not that," Jackson sighed, tightening his grip on Mark's hand. "Iwant sex, eventually... I don't know if that's something _you_ want from me, but it's more complicated than that."

He finally looked up, his eyes wide. He looked at Mark with the same fear he had after their little session in the parking lot. But fear wasn't quite the word for it. Vulnerability, perhaps, would have described it better. The room went quiet, neither of them knowing quite what to say.

"Mark..." Jackson said softly, breaking the silence. 

"Yeah?"

"Do you like me?"

Mark gave Jackson a blank look. 

"What kind of question is that?" he asked, rolling his eyes. Jackson still looked worried, and blinked rapidly a few times, as if he were trying to hold back tears.

"Please kiss me," Jackson whispered, not looking at Mark. Mark had to commend him; for whatever Jackson was going through, he still had the guts to ask for what he wanted. 

Mark leaned over and Jackson turned to meet his lips. The kiss itself only lasted a few seconds, and Jackson made a quiet contented noise. 

"Thank you," Jackson mumbled. "I guess I should tell you everything now that I can commit that kiss to memory. Just in case..."

"Tell me what?" Mark asked. "What are you talking about? In case of what?" 

Jackson sighed. 

"I wasn't happy with myself for the longest time," he murmured quietly. "I was alright as a little kid. Did lots of sports, some music lessons, typical kid shit. I fenced in a big co-ed junior team, and it wasn't perfect, but I was doing okay."

"What does that have to do with--" Mark started, but Jackson held his finger up. 

"I'll get there," he said softly. "Just let me give you the whole speech, I need it off my chest."

Mark nodded, letting Jackson knead his hand fervently as he spoke. 

"Then I turned twelve, and everything went to shit," Jackson continued, chuckling to himself without feeling. "I changed fencing leagues, so I could be with a more prestigious team, but they were separated by gender. Puberty hit me like a fucking truck. Everything was wrong, and I couldn't figure out why. I didn't have a lot of friends I could open up to about personal things either, and by the time I turned fourteen I was self-harming. At least physical pain was more tangible than what I felt inside."

He gestured to his wrist, although Mark didn't see any scars. 

"I was miserable, basically. My entire physical being felt like a prison. Imagine waking up and looking in the mirror and hating what you see, but not being able to do anything about it. It caused me discomfort to even think about my own flesh. So I did some research. I probably spent weeks of my free time on the Internet, trying to find something. I found lots of people in the same situation as me, by the way. Some of them even offered me support and advice, but what the hell could I do about it, I was like, fourteen or fifteen. But I did get to put it into words."

Jackson swallowed hard, and Mark could see the tears welling up now.

"You probably know where I'm going with this story," Jackson whispered, his grip on Mark's hand as tight as ever. "I'm trans, Mark. I wasn't born with the name Jackson. I dropped out of fencing for over a year. In that year, I went on hormones, got surgery on my chest, and legally changed my birth certificate. I changed schools too, and in my last year of high school, I joined an all-boys fencing team for the first time in my life. You have no idea how fucking lucky I was-- _am_ \--to have the parents I have. They spent thousands of dollars on me. I've read stories, kids who got kicked out, or were taken to therapists... Or worse. I took a year off between high school and university to get a hysterectomy, too. I saw you staring at my scars the other week at the party. I wondered if maybe you'd guess, but you didn't say anything else, so..."

It was Jackson's turn to shrug. He still hadn't let go of Mark's hand, but he was holding on considerably less tightly now. His shoulders sagged, and he seemed deflated, like all the energy in him had been sucked out. He didn't look at Mark either. 

"I... I see why you wouldn't have wanted me groping you in the parking lot," Mark murmured, not sure what else to say. It was a lot to take in. He was not surprised, necessarily, but it was rather whelming to process all at once. 

"I've never had sex before," Jackson admitted. "I know I talk big, 'n I act like I know what I'm doing. But I've never had this sort of confidence before, and I love it. I love being able to look at myself and not hate what I see. Like don't get me wrong, I made for a pretty girl, but it wasn't how I wanted to look. I didn't want _others_ to look at me and think 'oh, what a pretty girl'. Maybe if others didn't assume based on appearance, I would have been okay with... with what I was given."

Jackson's shoulders were slumped forward and he was shaking. Mark could hear Jackson swallow hard, his breath quiet and shallow. 

"Are you... crying?" Mark asked, reaching up to gently pat Jackson's shoulder comfortingly. 

"No!" Jackson gasped, quickly brushing his eyes with his sleeve. He gave an audible sniffle, confirming Mark's suspicions. "I've just been worried all week that you'd want out after learning about... this."

Mark stared for a moment, Jackson's words not making any sense to him. Why would he want out? Because of Jackson? Of who he was? At least in Mark's mind, being transgender did not make Jackson any less... _Jackson._

"What are you talking about?" Mark exclaimed a little too loudly. "I thought that maybe I did something and _you_ were going to break up with me. I thought _you_ were upset at _me_."

The two of them stared at each other for a second, and Jackson finally cracked a smile through his tears. 

"I love you," he blurted, pulling Mark into a surprise hug and squeezing tightly. Mark laughed, or at least gave a wheezing attempt while he had Jackson's arms around his neck. He finally pulled himself from his death grip and took Jackson's face in his hands, looking at him earnestly. 

"I love you too," Mark said gently, returning Jackson's smile. He wiped at a stray tear with his thumb, leaving a wet streak on Jackson's skin. "I'm not upset by this. I don't think any less of you. I don't... love you any less."

It felt good to tell Jackson he loved him. And it felt just as good to hear it too. Jackson was climbing into his lap now, grabbing at Mark and kissing him. Mark didn't hesitate to grab right back, holding Jackson's hips and parting his lips for each kiss. Jackson felt less tense this time, like he wasn't restraining himself. And he probably wasn't either, Mark realized. This was most likely the first time Jackson had been this physically intimate with someone without having to keep his guard up. 

Jackson straddled Mark and continued to kiss him hungrily, like he couldn't get enough. Mark felt fingers tighten in his hair, and suddenly his head was being tilted backwards so Jackson could kiss his way down Mark's jaw and neck. Despite Jackson's self proclaimed lack of experience, Mark was thoroughly enjoying himself. He gave a full body shiver as he felt lips brush his collarbone, and he fisted his hands in Jackson's shirt. A few more open-mouthed kisses later, Mark found himself on his back on the bed, underneath Jackson who had both hands up his shirt. 

"This is..." Mark groaned, trying to ignore how fast he'd gotten hard. He could feel Jackson playing with his nipples, which were just as hard as--

"Good?" Jackson asked, and Mark gasped as he felt gentle fingers pinch a little. 

"Embarrassing," Mark mumbled, and Jackson giggled. 

"So... Really good, then," Jackson clarified, giving Mark's jaw a few more kisses. 

Mark didn't realize just how far south Jackson was touching; he kept one hand on Mark's chest but the other slowly drifted to the front of Mark's jeans. Mark's eyes had been closed before, but they flew open the second he felt Jackson cup him through his pants. 

"You might have to tell me what feels good," Jackson mumbled, pressing his face into Mark's neck self consciously. "I don't really know what... yeah."

He palmed Mark's crotch, not using as much pressure as he could have. Mark lifted his hips into Jackson's hand, groaning in spite of how embarrassed he was. His cheeks felt extra warm, but he had to admit it felt good. 

"Jackson..." Mark murmured. "How far are you planning to go?" He lifted himself onto his elbow, dislodging Jackson from the crook of his neck. Jackson's face scrunched up like it did when he was thinking. 

"I don't know," Jackson admitted. "I didn't think we'd get this far. We don't have to go too far... but the apartment _is_ empty and will be for a while."

Mark raised his eyebrows in surprise. Jackson had apparently gotten over himself pretty quickly, perhaps due to how receptive Mark was to him. And Mark didn't particularly care what bits and pieces Jackson had, just so long as it was all Jackson. 

"I'm okay to take some things off," Mark said quietly, shrugging. Jackson's eyes seemed to widen and a smile formed on his lips. 

"Keep going unless someone says stop?" he suggested, and Mark nodded vigorously. Both of them had next to no experience, so some exploring sounded like their best bet. Mark didn't exactly expect to go all the way on their first try anyway. 

"Do you... um.. shirts first maybe?" Mark mumbled, tripping over his own tongue. Jackson nodded and pulled off his shirt, revealing his defined abs and faded scars. Mark followed suite, tossing his hoodie and t-shirt to the floor. The cold air made him shudder, so Jackson opted to lie next to Mark and pull the blankets on his bed over the two of them.  
"I like this," Mark murmured, pressing himself against Jackson, closing his eyes at how good it felt to have skin on skin. Jackson just hummed in reply, wrapping an arm around Mark and gently pawing at his back. Their legs tangled together and Jackson slipped his thigh between Mark's. 

"You're certainly not shy," Mark groaned, his hips moving forward to grind down on Jackson's leg. 

"You're certainly not complaining," Jackson countered, smirking in satisfaction when Mark's hips began to move more rhythmically against him. Mark knew Jackson was proud of himself for making him pop a boner. He could practically hear the smug grin on the boy's face. 

Mark ran his own hands over Jackson, pausing when he brushed over one of the scars on his chest. 

"Can you feel anything here?" he asked, fingertips flicking one of Jackson's nipples. 

"Yeah, but not really in the way you probably feel it," Jackson confessed. "I regained a lot of sensation in the months after healing from surgery, but I don't like... get any erogenous feeling there, you know? But I like it when you touch me there anyway."

"Is this better then?" Mark asked, running his hand up and down Jackson's front. 

"Much better."

Jackson let Mark rub his chest, but kept on pawing at Mark's jeans. Mark lifted his head, looking down at Jackson's hand and back up again. 

"Should I take them off?" he breathed, letting his hand settle on Jackson's hip. 

"If you're okay to," Jackson said. Mark hesitated for a moment before taking a deep breath and wriggling out of his pants. Jackson helped tug them off and drop them on the floor beside their shirts. Mark didn't even want to look at the embarrassing bulge in his underwear, but he knew that's exactly where Jackson was looking. 

"Nice," Jackson said under his breath, settling back down beside Mark and stroking him through his underwear. "You didn't feel this big through your pants."

"Oh my god," Mark mumbled into the pillow. "I'm not that big though-"

"You are when you have yourself for reference," Jackson interjected, although Mark wasn't quite sure what Jackson was talking about. "Tell me if I do anything wrong, okay? I wanna..."

He tugged at the waistband of Mark's boxers, and Mark nodded. Jackson's hand slipped inside them, and Mark gave the most mortifying moan he'd ever made in his life. He covered his face, trying not to buck his hips into Jackson's hand. 

"Are you sure you've never given a hand job before?" Mark gasped. Jackson stroked him gently but steadily, ever so slightly picking up speed as he went.

"Positive," Jackson replied confidently, pausing for a moment to tug down Mark's boxers before returning to the task at hand. 

Mark was all but writhing under Jackson's touch, and Jackson squirmed a little too, evidently pleased with himself. Mark heard his own nails raking down the bed-sheet. His breath came in shallow gulps as he tried to stop himself from coming too early. Half of it was probably the excitement of having someone else touch him, plus Mark hadn't had time to even think about jerking it on his own for the past little while. 

"I might come," Mark warned. "But I don't--want to get your sheets dirty..."

"No, I think you should definitely come," Jackson purred. "I have extra sheets, and it's not like I don't know how to do laundry. It wouldn't be nice to leave you so close to the edge like this."

He pumped his hand faster, using his other hand to circle one of Mark's nipples again. Mark made a soft whimpering noise, and suddenly arched his back, crying out. 

Mark came a lot harder than he expected, spilling himself mostly onto Jackson's stomach and hands. He lay beside Jackson naked, save for the sheet covering him, taking a moment to catch his breath. He was too spent to be self conscious.  

"Holy shit," he said, and Jackson grinned at him. 

"How did I do?" Jackson asked. "Is it always this much?" He glanced down at himself, grimacing at the sticky liquid that had landed on his stomach. 

"A born natural," Mark muttered, running a hand through his hair. He shivered and pulled the blankets around himself, snuggling closer to Jackson. "Sorry about the sheets again..."

"It's fine, I honestly do know how to do laundry," Jackson laughed. Mark gave him a sleepy smile. 

"Do you want me to do you too?" Mark asked, and Jackson went quiet. 

"Maybe?" Jackson replied, his voice cracking a little. Mark frowned. 

"Maybe isn't a yes," Mark reminded him. "If you're unsure, we can wait."

"It's not that," Jackson said quickly. "I'm just different... I don't have what you might call a 'girl's body', but it's not one hundred percent like yours either."

Mark could hear the air quotes around 'girl' and cocked his head. 

"What do you mean?"

"I mean," Jackson sighed. "Do you want me to just show you?"

"O-only if you're comfortable," Mark said, startled. He propped himself up on his elbow, watching Jackson carefully. "Don't push yourself for me. I can wait if you're not sure."

"I want to," Jackson said firmly, shutting his eyes tightly. He pulled off his pants and boxers and dumped them in the growing pile of clothes on the floor. He opened his eyes and gave Mark a hopeful look, legs pressed together. Jackson threw the blankets back over himself before taking Mark's hand and guiding it towards his crotch, spreading his thighs just enough to let Mark have some mobility. 

"So you're, like... just really scaled down," Mark murmured, stroking Jackson with his fingers. 

Jackson gave a full body shudder. Mark's hand closed over him, rubbing gently, experimenting a little. 

"It's okay if you don't get me off," Jackson mumbled. "I'm really sensitive but overstimulation sometimes hurts."

Mark pursed his lips, thinking. 

"How do you usually... um..." 

"Masturbate?" Jackson inserted helpfully. "Manually, I'll be honest. I used to use a pump more often, to help with size issues. I used to hate touching myself, but the last few years have been much easier. But you can touch me however you want, I promise it feels good."

"Tell me if you want me to do something different," Mark said softly, pulling Jackson closer and kissing his neck. 

Mark settled on burying his face in Jackson's collarbone and stroking him with his fingers. He planted kisses everywhere he could reach and even sucked a little on Jackson's neck, leaving a mark. Jackson didn't squirm like Mark had either. He was relatively still but made constant noise, gasping or moaning or asking Mark to keep doing that, yes right there, please keep touching there. 

Something dawned on Mark, but he wasn't sure if he should ask. Maybe it was a delicate subject, and he didn't want to ruin the mood. But his curiosity got the better of him, and he figured he should ask before they went any further. 

"Hey Jackson," Mark murmured into his boyfriend's ear. "Is it possible to, um, go... inside?" 

Jackson turned his head to look at Mark, blinking a few times. 

"It's possible," he replied. "But you'll need lube. I have some--"

"Only if you want," Mark interrupted, blushing. "If I'm pushing you too much you can say no."

"Let me finish," Jackson said, laughing a little. "I was about to say, I have some under the bed. I do, in fact, enjoy that sort of thing."

He leaned up to plant a kiss on a beet-red Mark's lips, then reached underneath his bed to pull out a small tin. Mark watched as Jackson opened the box with slightly shaky hands and took out a small bottle which he handed to Mark. There were some other items in the box, but none of them looked familiar to Mark. Jackson had closed the lid again before he could get a better look. 

Mark looked down at his hand, clutching a half-empty bottle of clear liquid. He'd never used real lube before, only unscented lotion if he needed to take care of things. He popped the cap and poured some over his fingers. It smelled vaguely like strawberry candy. 

"You sure this is safe?" he asked suspiciously. 

"Positive," Jackson assured, looking at Mark expectantly. "Do you need help? Since you know... You've never done it before, right?"

"I think I can do it," Mark said, pushing Jackson back down on the bed and using his palm to navigate. After an awkward moment of feeling around, Mark slowly pushed a finger inside Jackson, who in response made a small, unintelligible noise and spread his legs wider. 

"Keep doing that," Jackson breathed. "Is it okay if I jerk myself off?"

"Of course," Mark replied, nestling back down against Jackson's neck and kissing him again. 

He eventually worked a second, then third finger inside Jackson, slowly thrusting them in and out. Jackson's breath came in low, shallow gasps, his hand working in time with Mark's. Finally, Jackson arched his back and Mark felt him tighten around his fingers. 

"Mark I--Ah!"

Jackson's voice had gone up about an octave, mouth gaping as he came. He clawed at whatever he could reach, including the sheets as well as Mark's thighs. Mark pushed his fingers in as far as they could go, staying put until he was sure Jackson had finished. Jackson's breathing slowed, and Mark took that as a sign to pull out and pull Jackson closer. He planted a kiss on Jackson's forehead, making Jackson snuggle closer and wrap his arms around Mark. 

"What now?" he mumbled into Mark's shoulder. 

"When do your roommates come back again?"

"Dunno.. Dinnertime maybe..."

"Then we have until dinnertime," Mark said firmly, using his thumb to stroke gentle circles down Jackson's spine. 

"You're gonna spoon my ass 'til dinner?" Jackson joked, kissing Mark's cheek and grinning. "This is awesome."

"I guess I could," Mark sighed, but he smiled too. Both of them were slightly sticky, but they cuddled up, content to lay together quietly. 

Mark closed his eyes, relaxing into an almost dream-like state. His limbs felt heavy, but he raised his head with what felt like an amazing amount of effort. 

"Jackson?" Mark croaked. 

"Yeah?"

Mark shifted, trying to get as close as physically possible. 

"I really do love you," he whispered. "Thank you for trusting me with... you, I guess."

Jackson kissed the tip of Mark's nose, looking as equally sleepy as Mark, despite it being the early afternoon. 

"It's because I love you too," Jackson replied simply. "The fact you're still here proves you're more than trustworthy."

"You should tell Jinyoung and Jaebum to go out more often from now on," Mark mumbled. Jackson let out a quiet laugh. 

"I was just enjoying the peace and quiet we have _now._ "

"Alright, alright."

They fell back into a comfortable silence, exchanging soft sighs instead of words. Mark wondered how he'd gone from single, friendless loser to being naked in Jackson's bed, happier than he had ever been before. Jackson had pushed his way into Mark's life so quickly that in less than two months, Mark's world had done a complete turnaround. But feeling Jackson's gentle breath on his cheek reminded Mark that this was probably the best thing to happen to him in years. It was daunting to know he'd have to navigate things as they went, but he didn't care. Mark began to doze off, lulled by the warmth and happiness around and inside him. Jackson was wild. Jackson was ridiculous. Jackson was a disruption. But for now, Jackson was his, and that was all Mark cared about. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thanks to everyone who's stuck by me through this fic, and those who read this whole thing in one go (good for you!)  
> it's been a long time coming since i wrote this during one of the busiest semesters ever but im very happy with the responses i've gotten and i had a great time writing this!!!  
> feedback/comments/kudos are always always appreciated and i promise i will continue to write other things maybe even more got7 in the future!!! anyway this has been a wild ride and i genuinely loved writing this 
> 
> xo, Perri


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